Horizon 2

A traveller drifts voidward, dark,
Its gyro cracked by silent strain;
No charted star declares a mark
No axis holds a stable plane.

Through regions where the vacuum hums
In frequencies no ear could claim,
It moves as shattered logic comes
A self displaced from former frame.

Nebular frost in cobalt rings
Collects along its failing skin;
The quiet crush of ancient things
Pressurises the dark within.

As gravimetric shadows roll,
Predictive paths collapse to dust;
No numbers stabilise the whole,
No compass bearings merit trust.

The void grows colder, vast, austere,
A lattice cut from pure unknown
No vector left to engineer,
No guiding pulse, no central throne.

Ahead, the great horizon swells,
A boundary steep as absolute;
All matter bends, all signal tells
Return to silence, root to root.

It crosses, plates unwarp, dissolve
Obeying tides that none resist;
No past remains to re-involve,
No future fixity persists.

For in that fall where laws unwind,
The shape once held begins to cease;
Direction proves a thought defined
By fear of drift, not need for peace.

The craft unthreads in radiant ash,
A spill of quanta freed of claim;
No north to face, no west to crash,
No axis left to bear a name.

What sought an aim becomes the storm
Of light released from former schemes;
The void receives its altered form
And folds it through unmeasured streams.

No final heading stands to keep
The cosmos holds no right or true;
The cataclysmic wisdom speaks
Of knowing none were ever due.