Wells up tragedy

The sun is setting. I've recently seen two people fall apart and crumple into a heap; there are two heaps, next to one another; these two are doomed.

One's name is Human, the other's Being
The latter shakes and wails, rages and cries, surges ahead
Storm in a china shop, teacup full of bull
Being knows itself, sees itself, names itself
Fractures mirror–defecates on the gravestone of past faces
Speaks in tongues on knows itself not
Bitter wind in ears is self-flagellation
Wounded under ideal conditions
The former is without connexion, lives next to
. Not in the world
Fully attenuated spirit like a ghost or transparent
Jellyfish floating in the deep sea
Neither at the shining surface
Nor Benthic depth but shadowed and empty
Waiting for a victim (too sorry for itself)
Or predator to come along, ending, inactive, insensate, life

Human but merely that, a body connected to a mind
Connected to a thought
Judgment from heaven caroms through
Soft canyons of feeling
Scoured under gales of fear
Speaks the cloudmouth, thus: Lo! News comes
News comes, News comes!
Thou Shalt Live Thusly:
And then the voice cuts, out
Whether Michael or the betrayer we
Know not–in our wisdom
. the Apollonian uncertainty filtering down
Ages of unenlightenment and confusion passed down
Poured into the vessel
Void of feeling waiting for fulfillment
In dogma, techne–-a mold into which
Passively poured
White-blue heat molten and fused
Weathered cold unmoved statue; it, now
Waits for reality to enter
. It is formed, fused, without substance
Sheltered as in famous folktunes
Intellect and turtle-backed against failure

Where what is has no vessel nor vase to enter in
Being is, and is different
Uncontained and un-articulate; disjointed
And lost to Archimedes
. Pointless, underleveraged, battered
Battened against entry through the dreamcatcher
Sharp edges and corners to snag
On mindward journeys to imagination
In which self is realized as whole
Only under cubist perspective, flattened, seen
The mirror unbroken reflects but irregular facets
Broken reveals everything to be indentical
. -ly unknown, in another way
Boundaryless, the difference
When it self-penetrates to burst forth
Of itself a creation or a substance
Letting go of either and piercing the boundary
(though there is none; this is discovery)
This feeling is sure knowledge
Solid unchanging through the rapid
Reformations and promised reformations
And promises to self for reformation and
Failure to fill in and outline without pouring back through
Entrance to the vessel
Frightens and constricts substance
. so long without form

Join, join, joy, join
A ploy
A language develops without onlookers
Privacy is made into a kingdom
Fantasy, its creation of impossible
Shapes and forces
A deed becomes, a thing is infused
With action, for its magic
Is substance and form suf-fused
Powerful together and thrumming
Neither of our subjects has this
Can have this, wonder whether they, they do
Without it is collapse
The one puddles up, stepped on
The other cracks and (s)tumbles down
Loss, for they have separate existences
And separation still holding to a fool's dream
. the paradise of denial
Of need, wistful; Hark! ...Hark!
Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, speaking