Time ticks forward, backwards, and sometimes just stops and takes a shit.

This time now there is a piece of ‘rock’ flying ‘up’ there and soon to cause some forms to laugh and others to cry.

First: To destroy Earth it is easy as the choice is not aliens or God or gods or time taking a crap. Nope. Nada. Neither this or that…

Nothing can destroy this planet except… Ha! and Fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Second: A space ship of such primitive technology being overflown by another ship of more advanced technology being shadowed by…and so on and so on, meanwhile time just bent into a fucking giant pretzel full of some fucked up vibrations. Ha! and Fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Third: Hype and hyberbole. This is how time can kick start and kill consciousness at the same TIME! Ha! and fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

Forth: i just kicked time in the balls. And since time does not really exist do the balls just kick really exist? Ha! and fucking hell. Smile/Cry.

The answer: A rock. Time. A craft. A concept. And since none of you can understand anything other than words of gibberish. Yes/No. And so, a poem.

…

An iris of sunlight spoke to the hand of time

Extensions of a Mind

Fed the milk and honey of a body sleeping blind

and yet there… feel it as the eyes open and a baby cries

Carrying forth an olive branch dipped in blood where once a peaceful river flowed

So if and when they chose to be naked in fear or clothed in warm light

this then is your answer

to cast away the torn and tattered

or slip into consciousness bathed by garments of pure light.