"Das Nicht selbst nichtet"

[Скрыть] Регистрационный номер 0370357 выдан для произведения: «Das  Nicht  selbst  nichtet»
(нем.: «Пустота  уничтожает  себя» - выражение  из  Хайдеггера)
 
Всё  что  было – некстати,                                                                                                                                         всё, что  будет – пустяк…                                                                                                                                            У  границ  восприятья                                                                                                                                                    бьют  секунды  не  так.
И  не  сбудутся  грёзы,                                                                                                                                              не  сойдутся  концы,                                                                                                                                                 наши  мысли  и  слёзы                                                                                                                                                         не  сплетутся  в  венцы.
Мы – лишь  тени  в  пещере –                                                                                                                                эхо  дрогнувших  струн,                                                                                                                                            чьих-то  злых  суеверий                                                                                                                                      неземной  колотун.
У  границ  восприятья                                                                                                                                           душу  рвать  не  спеши,-                                                                                                                                                  мы  явились  некстати                                                                                                                                                             с  нотой  вместо  души.
Уж  не  знаем  и  сами,                                                                                                                                                   чем  пусты, чем  полны, -                                                                                                                               наплывает  волнами                                                                                                                                      трансцедентные  сны.
Все  старанья – в  пустое…                                                                                                                                                 от  себя  – к  ничему…                                                                                                                                                                        То  ли  Время  такое,                                                                                                                                                        то  ли  мы  - не  к  нему…