No Comfort

Cold comfort from my philosophy
 No faith in techno-science
 Or that religious psychopathology
 Back and forth
 Forward then back
 Not on a pendulum
 It's magnets
 Suspended
 Pushed and pulled
 Spinning, spinning, spinning, jerking moods
 Between hope and dread
 Being and nothingness
 No comfort from that which I know
 This fading so dark from below
 All the words in the world cannot show
 This powerful force
 Testing my will to go on and on
 Bring it up and carry it away
 I've got it now, you say
 So perfect and pure
 Completely undeniable
 Delicate euphoria so vulnerable
 Ice sculptures in summer heat
 Formless, and gone
 Reflects the fate of the living
 In the flesh of the dead
 Back and forth
 Slapped up and around
 Against the walls
 North pole and down
 Pushed and pulled
 No pendulum, no fulcrum
 Flipping 'round
 Pole through pole
 Spinning, spinning, spinning
 Fleeting echoes of hope and dread
 Being from nothing
 Nothing to being
 Being is
 But is it anything