Jonna's Fleeting Sanity: Random Poems/Prose

Might as well throw my hat into the ring on this one as it seems to be becoming a popular practice. Perhaps it will give me an opportunity to rewrite some old stuff.

The Original Echo

Transmit the voices in your head to God
or was it the other way around
everything is the one and yet distant
mimicking the layered reverberations of the original
each time becoming immensely distorted
grotesque and monstrous
in a combine mangled incompetence
removal of the epidermis
results in renewal of the planetary garden
the original sound is eternity
with every soul being an original echo
that in turn is born to the identity of a form
and the echo is further extended
the mutation of the absolute
founded by the ripples of water
crashing back down upon the distant shores

How many light bulbs does it take
to get back to the original echo?