Am I dreaming?
Or sleep walking into madness which sees no end.
Descend from the heavens thoughts seemingly to sink deep into the earth,
insanity seems to be a part of the ascent.
Walk backwards into history repeat itself beyond doorways...
Beyond the finger tip lies a self, its mind hidden deep in caverns holding secrets, flowers grow, we observe silent wings flashing in night skies.
Why are you me, am I even true to myself muzzled by the gloom foot steps echoing the past as we wander into the present state of presence.
Wind chimes fertilize destinies purity of soul when all else has been forgotten.
Mocking which can not be seen, is like praising gods that answer no prayers.
Dwell in the bellows.
Remember.
self.
Or sleep walking into madness which sees no end.
Descend from the heavens thoughts seemingly to sink deep into the earth,
insanity seems to be a part of the ascent.
Walk backwards into history repeat itself beyond doorways...
Beyond the finger tip lies a self, its mind hidden deep in caverns holding secrets, flowers grow, we observe silent wings flashing in night skies.
Why are you me, am I even true to myself muzzled by the gloom foot steps echoing the past as we wander into the present state of presence.
Wind chimes fertilize destinies purity of soul when all else has been forgotten.
Mocking which can not be seen, is like praising gods that answer no prayers.
Dwell in the bellows.
Remember.
self.
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