an antiplace, opportunity

Arching over it all

The void stretches

Not the vapid vaporous incorpreal foggy void of ancestral superstitious 

But the ral present void of overfull negation

Brimming with antithesis antithought antilife 

An antiplace

Arching over us all

Hangs this threat

This opportunity, yet

Seize upon its base, those columnar foundations

False pillars of pristiege, accomplishment, sanctity

Rather than otherworldly divine, they are firmly of this earth

Embedded, implanted within the very flesh of clay of our flesh

Arching over itself

It's mass precarious as those institutions devoted to its reverence

It's span a weakening strain, splintered crystal fibers snap with the slightest glance, the most minor doubt

A delicate spire, rather than imposing it balances at our behest, in spite of its crude design

It's priests conceal all this in vain

Arching inward

The void turns upon itself, closer inspection reveals

It consists of recursion, repetition

Relies upon that facade of weight for its substance

It's substance merely mirrored in itself, illusory strength

Grasp those delicate roots

Pull

The roots strangle, but pull

It's emptiness vibrates, but it sways

Pillars no more they shatter

Void no more, evaporates

Becomes that vapor

That weightless thing

That consuming cloud

That enveloping atmosphere

Arching, the beast's flight portents of something 

Without notice soars above this collapsed hulk of nothingness

Through now uncluttered sky, uncluttered minds