24

Yrambles of Yimds drifting along
eating each other, becoming strong.
Incessant chitter-chatter through mindless silence
their color-coded flame-bodies in complete darkness.
Most of a ghost of a part of a soul.
Split yourself up entirely in control.
Consume all of your neighbors, watch yourself grow
Restarting the cycle when your flame-body explodes.

And solitary Yimds with no competition
a detachedness that defies description.
A feeling, a knowing, emptiness throughout
no longer blowing up, finally blowing out.