Los Conquistadores

If the thoughts pursue their targeted subject then I will fall in a blink.
It is inevitable.
After-all,
the swirls and constant ripples cause a dizzy effect long after they are over.
You could call it a dance, a ball of sorts that belongs in the brain.
Somewhere deep inside there are Tiny Thoughts dancing lindy hop.
Not prancing. There is no elegance.
They are happy thoughts that enjoy the music and the dance but, cause the audience to growl and groan.
They are happy unhappy thoughts.
Once they reach their targeted subject everything will cease to be creative and delightful.
Already, if you close your eyes for a fraction of a second too long you can see the life of all originality be drained.
These thoughts don't come for friends. There will be no assimilation.
They come to wreck havoc and conquer.
They are the conquistadors.
Every tiny breath they draw, gives them minutes of life that spawn into hours which eventually spawn into eternity.
They shouldn't live.
But they do.
The antidote hasn't been obtained for the subject. It hasn't been found.
The blinking is growing longer.
The breaths are shortening and growing longer at once.
The dancers are moving.
The thoughts are expanding.
Another conquistador has arrived.
Alas another causality.
It is needed.
The antidote!
It must be found!
It is too late.

Is there peace?