Would Messier See Me Falling?

The arrows move

     drawing me down

                         onward toward the inner dark --

                         whiteness berating noise --

                         neither in nor out --

Falling into the inner horizon,

     diving where known cannot be,

to be torn apart as

                         thoughtless instability drifting in space

                         creating new space

                         in spacelessness

I look to the sky:

underneath calls beauty black --

     spreading wings into a nether

     we fly down

                         like arrows in gravity

                         turning language into dust

                         air becoming the throne

Emit

caught in the lines of imaginary rainbows

     absorbed lines cutting in the void.

     My mind falls

the words are gone.

                         Sitting alone with peers

                         grasp endlessness with a desk

                         intent slips into an anti-verse.