A swirling world dissolving deixes Lichtenberg of spider legs Unfurled the ego first to die sees What isn′t yet, the present begs
For its own truth which cannot be
So blend into the poly-mind
As self to all synecdoche
To flee from time be unconfined
<= Go back
For its demise which mustn′t be So cling to all that′s left to find And grill beneath the canopy To weather storms in time enshrined