Shifting in the fragments of
Time, the mind, travelling in the scattered
Dust of creation, drifting like a river
On the lands, on the endless points of
Time, seeking the intelligence of the
Gods, in this endless marsh of the
Diversity, hoping for the completion of
Ourselves, we wander in the ocean of
Thorns and do the gods remember
Us, or are we forsaken by the
Divinity, who we bow to in our
Constant attempts, to be eternal or is it
Just an extended desire of our minds to
Get what we want, for is the
Prayer, a true prayer and a connection
With our deeper selves or is it just
The rambling of the mind in its
Habit of doing what we do
As the fulfilment of our unlimited
Desires that remain insatiated as the
Bottomless pit of the black dark lords
Within the twisted anchor of genesis or
Do we truly surrender ourselves to
The connection of the infinite
Intelligence that is beyond the
Limits of our understanding for
I hear it start with the whisperings
Of love in the hearts of those
That seeks the joy of the reflection
On the mirror of the fragrances in
The soul and the sweet scents
Of the flowers of the heart in
The chambers of the lord of love and
Light that is eternal and the eventual
Dissolution of the drop in the
Ocean of the essence of
All creation and permanent bliss.


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