past epiphany revisited

I am atop the highest mountain. I see my feet fall years below me. though memories may disintegrate, by our own doing or by time's (which may still be one and the same), I will remain in this lossless state, shamelessly talking to the wind. love. we fall apart. we believe our bodies to be the end-all, we do not breathe any further.
but beyond the void i walk over, there is a suffering unlike anything we may know - and a pure joy too, coexistent, all-encompassing, utterly free. as I move my soul moves - those who left theirs behind remain inside their shells eternally. I pave a road towards the silvery moon, I march onward through fire, psychedelia and dream-tattoos.
And if in every leaf-vein pumps our own blood; or in every sputtering exhaust-spewing excuse for speech echoes unfulfilled hope; or below every concrete brick metal sewer dirtdeathdisease wasted earthlayer lies immeasurable possibility; or just behind the horizon dotted with anemia and fear so devout it is a religion in itself, pure love still breeds; or in your fingernails compressed are the ashes of millions of wars for nothing and just past nothing; or inside every perfectly spherical note resounding between your heavy brains dream countless dreams - never allow [myselfyourselfourselves] to forget, even if the words are long lost, a suicide spanning universes.
I am pleading with myself now, I have ceased to care if my feet rise or fall - in no pejorative sense, utterly neutral - never forget. Never forget.
never forget. never forget.