I want to write of nothing I believe.
My mind erased, my heart no longer chained
To promise, all conclusions unconceived.
Let truth unbidden come through glass unstained.
I pray my tongue could unacquire the taste
Of love, of fury, deadness, pain, and joy.
Refresh my ignorance. Teach me to waste.
Sing gentle songs of grey to silent noise.
Inspire my words with nothing and I'll say
Exactly what I mean to you, sweet void.
My empty praise of emptiness will play
The part of meaning after I've destroyed
My memory. I'll write of this, the No.
No wrong. No doubt. . . . Then back to faith I go.
The eternal value of being wrong - Science, my boy, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth. Jules Verne, Jo...
1 week ago