As if something else

Not in Sartre’s existence,

Not in Nietzsche’s nothingness,

Not in the indescribable dreams through Freud’s lens,

Not in Rumi’s azure serenity,

Not in Kundera’s unbearable lightness,

Not in the mythalogical trial of the Odyssey cast by Homer,

Not even in the lexicon of artificial intelligence,

Yet a bit in Omar Khayyam’s black-grape drunkness,

Playing alone at the edge of a bottomless abyss,

In the blinking of ancient genes waiting for millions of years for their moment,

Like a weary earthly courier wandering through the wormholes of a dark star,

In an indescribable uncertainty, at the yet unnamed birth of a waiting synthesis.

written by Aşur Horoz