In the year of the snake; trans is on the rapid air; it looks and wavers not, the sublime will manifesting in this populated wonderland.
Its infested with the creatures from a circus brought under the night sky; the stars shine back like a reflection of the ground where these magnificent creations surface...
Damsels; of beauty beckoning like a magnet. These muscians playing their true gandharv tunes, bringing out the ecstasy wave after wave. Its a selection of the creatures who come down to our consciousness, to worship like men and women. They worship the mystery that is creation, which never ceases to amaze. Its true that we possess a rabbits hole to jump into; a alternate and perhaps the realest creation; an open maze. Wonderful and the trickery of the dreamer (that is the self).
The trick was to fool yourself; into forgetting what you already knew. Not a function of time, as you begin to unfold, a mirror reflections are still the mirage. Deepen your sense and renew, what time made you forget is where you and I start to doubt our capabilities. In the occult and perhaps the realest sense that exists.
Alice falls deeper and sees that another world is still the same exhibiting characteristics of our age. Its not the difference but the unity that is the mysterious blossom rose of the garden of wonderland. It unfolds when you stop fooling yourself and step out of your self made cage. Its apparent and shrouded in mystery. There is not a strand of truth that you can use; to assure you freedom from dismay.
The apparent beauty and reflections of your apparent known self, illusory and self satisfying. Its energy that is wasted in search of something precious, in all the wrong places. I won't and couldn't tell what is wrong, yet what does not feed the nature of the spirit. It will cause demise in every realest of real sense.
The trees stand with man, erect and aloof; in silent wonder awe of such beautiful illusory creations, We take a breadth in unison, perfect symbiosis between man and plant. Its the wonderland; keeping us bound and free at the same time, every step of the way!
Its crying shame, that you burn what feeds your creative imagination. Its a wonder that why we still exist; and not burn in perpetual hell. Oh Welcome to the human 'city'(for all those who have experienced it well)
The crackling of the pipe; the smooth thrill down the hatch, overdrive. Believe me; the more it pops; the stranger the night. Cross over to other sides. Till the shore becomes the river, its reflections which spring up in wonderland, some sort of game. A cruel remind; death comes at high noon. Your time and mine, reflecting and act fast. The wonderland circus will fall with your down time. Its sincerely advised that what you do count, in your mind and not mine. I wont bother to find out what it is the difference between your kind and perhaps mine?
All are part of this enchanting wonderland; every moment exhibiting tendency towards madness; or thats how 'sane' people tend to look at it. Because you and I are already neck deep in it, You and I would or should call it our lives.
Peace
Its infested with the creatures from a circus brought under the night sky; the stars shine back like a reflection of the ground where these magnificent creations surface...
Damsels; of beauty beckoning like a magnet. These muscians playing their true gandharv tunes, bringing out the ecstasy wave after wave. Its a selection of the creatures who come down to our consciousness, to worship like men and women. They worship the mystery that is creation, which never ceases to amaze. Its true that we possess a rabbits hole to jump into; a alternate and perhaps the realest creation; an open maze. Wonderful and the trickery of the dreamer (that is the self).
The trick was to fool yourself; into forgetting what you already knew. Not a function of time, as you begin to unfold, a mirror reflections are still the mirage. Deepen your sense and renew, what time made you forget is where you and I start to doubt our capabilities. In the occult and perhaps the realest sense that exists.
Alice falls deeper and sees that another world is still the same exhibiting characteristics of our age. Its not the difference but the unity that is the mysterious blossom rose of the garden of wonderland. It unfolds when you stop fooling yourself and step out of your self made cage. Its apparent and shrouded in mystery. There is not a strand of truth that you can use; to assure you freedom from dismay.
The apparent beauty and reflections of your apparent known self, illusory and self satisfying. Its energy that is wasted in search of something precious, in all the wrong places. I won't and couldn't tell what is wrong, yet what does not feed the nature of the spirit. It will cause demise in every realest of real sense.
The trees stand with man, erect and aloof; in silent wonder awe of such beautiful illusory creations, We take a breadth in unison, perfect symbiosis between man and plant. Its the wonderland; keeping us bound and free at the same time, every step of the way!
Its crying shame, that you burn what feeds your creative imagination. Its a wonder that why we still exist; and not burn in perpetual hell. Oh Welcome to the human 'city'(for all those who have experienced it well)
The crackling of the pipe; the smooth thrill down the hatch, overdrive. Believe me; the more it pops; the stranger the night. Cross over to other sides. Till the shore becomes the river, its reflections which spring up in wonderland, some sort of game. A cruel remind; death comes at high noon. Your time and mine, reflecting and act fast. The wonderland circus will fall with your down time. Its sincerely advised that what you do count, in your mind and not mine. I wont bother to find out what it is the difference between your kind and perhaps mine?
All are part of this enchanting wonderland; every moment exhibiting tendency towards madness; or thats how 'sane' people tend to look at it. Because you and I are already neck deep in it, You and I would or should call it our lives.
Peace
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