Sleep Walkers

 Sleep walk into the slumber, Hive sleeps the brood soothsayer Mephistopheles meditates on shores of the Columbia river. Sipping from the eternal rain ship wrecked debris of sacred. Scribed runes on elder Oaks, they guard this sacred land. Sworn to Oath in its misery' we shan't remain silent. Tweaked out of minds, out of body experience we merge as one voice to get nothing done once again, we pray to our lord Procrastination. Then one day 9 years later you seam to be struck by sunlight through a different dew drop lens televised intelligence and the roots remain pure as sacred flesh of Liberty. When we awoke midsummer eve deep in the land of fairies, we rode panthers in-search of blue rings. Once that was found what we once seek, wisdom's passed down turn to ash in the records of knowledge...back into the slumber we are all sleepwalkers.

When was the day...

When was the day,

We were born out of shadows...

From the hollows of which we,

Came fourth into light of All.

What adds value to this illusion

if we cannot see its truths,

Veil after veil seeking to reach

the center of the Sun,

Trying to figure out how

to preserve the One.

Self.

Aware.

Some days we find heroes...

beyond the stones of immortals.

The songs of the silence share, wisdom's amongst her people.

Let not us be consumed,

the demons cry out for souls...

Re read the ancient riddles, scriptures scribed on

Dragons tongue.

Answers awaiting engraved in walls,

incantations of the neXt generation.

-LKCP2KXIII-

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Vapors of Gods

Once we lay our eyes to rest, the world blossoms insights not seen by sons of man.

And as it seems at times they only listen to voices of God's Scribes of man.

There are those who seek alchemical whispers through eyes outside of ones mind.

But un aware the true reflection resides in the pools of darkness hidden deep within the cosmos...

Seek not and thou shall find, the many treasure gods placed inside...

Coded in language of the birds for in each his own to decode,

Reach out for Akashic vapors...for its very keys you hold.

LKCP2KXIII

Wandered

Sitting illumed in candle fire surrounded by walls gazing, bricks of flesh, wonderingly if they are listening.
I speak the silent tongues of the halls beyond thoughts of mortal men...
I hear the moons thoughts in shadows of trees, whispering to the skies in light of star's.
I see Scriptures of the Ancient ones, scribed in the suns rays...
mystic tear drops falling from eyes of the rainbow.
Surrender to the mirrors reflection in stillness of Akashic reservoir scrying inner cosmos...
While drifting in Saturns rings.
LKCP2KXIII

Modern Archeologist

We have already reached a point in our times that there really is nothing left on earth to discover externally, but there is a vast space inside our beings for all of us to discover.

When there is no mystery left, and all the veils have been lifted then there is no other direction but evolving and transmuting our selves to the next level.

You are your own archeologist...

Dig wisely.

-LKCP2KXII-

Thoughts of a Lost Soul

Be as still as the water like the picture above, so the reflection remains un-distorted.

In observation my body is the mountain and inner cosmos is the water,

thought is like a pebble or fish jumping out of the still ness causing ripples,

which distort the reflection but underneath all the movement under the veil of the ripple the water remains still,

masked by the viel of its movement above.

Yet the mountain remains calm effortlessly until the rippling ripples of...

mara comes to a complete stop to find oneness with its surrounding,

simultaneously realizing it truly is,

and never will be everything and nothing all at once untouchable like the sun.

LKCP2KXIII