Nothing for the hole.
There never was, never for any;
--part empty, part full,
no need required--
must only be.
A spinning mind may whirl ablaze
but restless must cease lest ruin again
--and again: no doing need be done,
no final battle be won--
for every final inscape scale of salvation
blinds another’s balance over damnation,
each peace only peaces (alone) for itself.
And a right rate will the empty fill with
--spin speed to deed distance, pole to pole,
cubic fullness per meaning time-- flow,
though fillment refill demands: each external drag,
another internal spin round ruin, while
being is no balance, it knows
--the fear of holes is the self killer, and
a few improved lives the greatest get--
there's nothing for the hole,
the hole is beyond us, part of us