I awoke into a dream and before my vision seemed a majick mandala, a canvas on which candles scrawled words of waxy light. And it was on this black-winged night that I was three times visited by significant visions via instruments of a diviner's bliss. Thin herb wisps curled from my nostrils as I intoned tones that no bones have known since the days of earth's first loam....
With a groan and a shudder caused by ancient thunder, the veil was lifted.
I came to my senses, saw flame endowed lenses and names without sentence. And as the words receded into my peripheral vision, I was once again surrounded by darkness....I could only listen. My pineal gland glistened and vibrations thrummed along my body. The One I've become was oddly familiar, death was nothing but a silly word....
Sat, January 5, 2008 - 7:33 PM —
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