Distraction

Puts forth fictitious notions
That is and will be
False prophecy
It waits yet doesn't reach,
Renditions, mapped out variations

The deep red sky along with the dark depths,
Enwreathing towards and across
Void illuminates and marks
Whatever there is and whatever there can be
Distraction soothes still a distasteful speck.

Wishful matter, motionless tenant
Whether ours to begin with or not, sustenance
Proclaimed, snatched so that it remains intact
Breathing yet no bearing, relaying
What you see, does the depths see?
What eternity feels, can we?

Prompt: see title
15-4-2026