To abide by nothing, yet in all places to be nowhere. Having been stricken by a bolt of dark emerald. Seething downwards from the battered cindered soul, ablaze. Blasting through the weary head, awaking what is wise with Eternal Love near to the entrance of the Immortal Fountain.
The Sun in the grey clouds, arisen and the stellated-mind lashing at the dregs of it, which recoiled, from within the seat of our curtailed awareness, beclouded the secret mind who was waiting, in all friendship for good Love’s sole purpose to shower its sacred dew on our forehead.
Here in this forlorn and rejected country where the waste material of dejected and mutilated races, suffocate those who are wise, …the good as if damned by god!
But we navigate internally, far from what rusted eyes of unhealthy intellect might interpret, like seafarers in the heavens unseen. Breaking the intolerant waves of…
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