I made a simple promise to myself,
that I would never leave my flag unfurled;
regardless of the dangers I incurred,
my truths would speak across the depths of space:
Forgive me the lack of patience as I write;
my mind is blank, and blackness is a blur
that lends itself to seizing with a stroke
of hand so swift like mice under the light:
There are sports and words that mean so little
to me, as I sit here and type away;
fast break and lay it in, and then defend;
the flow and counterflow of life and death:
The space is void of meaning and of thought,
as we chase after specters of good sense.