Spun on my own spindle axis

Another round spun on their spindle axis
my body hung
from the excess yarn.
To participate in a fading dream
I got pulled out of the machine.
It used to be so squishy & warm.
And now we all just are wandering endlessly
Alone and thirsty.
Scouring heat and Fata Morgan’
follow the outlook under the burning sun
of this ever so indifferent world
and what we are spun on our journey through the desert
laid behind
our shadow
the thread backward
is what our spirits always follow
can’t blame,
if you want to follow reality
you have to do it backwards
tomorrow is just a delusion
even though the thread is severed,
gone
and soon buried under the sand
we press down
with our feet.
Feeling alone
I stared to talk to myself
There is no harm.
You will not be thirsty
I will not let you
fear the ego death!
Is it so far fetched
that even god,
if it existed
that a perfect being
muttered in its last wish
choice over divinity?
Took the sacrifice to fractalize itself
to able to wander with a companion?
Even if we are all leaderless
there are no leaderless humans.
All just doing their best
Which makes us all just tragedies
of a broken thing not wanting to be alone
and wishing back
what became this desert
all of it was
what it before called home.
For that
you had to have witnesses.
Otherwise,
where would the choice arise
if not from perspective?
Another round spun on my own spindle axis
hearing that you should go
because I am not whole
until you are.

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