In his dream, space became an endless declivity,
descending from emptiness to emptiness.
The earth-a boulder, its surface preoccupied by its own longing.
Every wish became another turn down the slope,
(or was it the other way 'round?),
though the din of the crushing became a song to those inclined to music
(or, did they just like to sing?).
When the prophet awoke, it was to the sound of his own screaming.
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