Literature

Elegant white rose bushes line the winding path to Mount Olympus. The truth being we always are here but new in skin. Mortals grovel at the luscious gates of envy while the hidden path is the valley of selflessness. A immortal grasps your hearts with demands. That voice echoed through endless hallways as you are challenged. A Valkyrie of holographic light, emanating bliss shows you a brief silhouette of wings. A familiar face of Mother smiles warmth as she guides you back to quiet slumber. You walk further into the corridor of truth. Infinite void of expanding space luring you

Sensation of peace and pride. The back of eyes filled with static void as a heart falls through the floor. A faint breeze a whisper they’re near. A dominating hand reaches through the floor looking for substance to breathe. Her Majesty, Ishtar, batters an eye with a cease of silence. Embodiment of absolute determination. The dominance of a beast, with the femininity of a child, born of a light-filled darkness. In the eyes of truth no cycles are true..

Those creatures you identify as demons are only your irrational manifestation of a deeper, psychic truth. The acknowledgement of pain is one of the hardest wisdom to accept. Its freeing to avoid contemplating upon the sufferings of the past. We have the dutiful ability to concentrate those lessons into selfless freedom. Finding the intuitions to save ourselves from doomed paths. Most of us do not seek to see things for the peerless high levels of consciousness they are in actuality. The figure of devolved authority herding you back to your comfortable cages will inevitably fail. Those brutish worlds will fade

The bleak follow insensitive comforts as sands of time wash down the spiral. Denial of spirit is their sorry excuse for growing distant to beauty. Transcendental goddesses giggle at those shambling fears. There is no safe exit from the realm of karma. The only salvation is the admission of weaknesses. You are only a god without your impermanent ego. All flows through you; all will flow back. Love is the unity between all dimensional vibrations. Let your essence be reborn. Resonate as you twirl down the tunnel that skims across the simulation of spirit. There is no psychosis here unless

The spirit lingers between two sheets of reality. Lucid dreaming in envy for continuity. Curling and toiling above the heads of those who stick within that realm. All that happens within reason. Everlasting legacies built upon the paradox. Immortality terrifies even the stoutest of souls. Distant waves crumble into hushing particles on the shores of limbo. Futile attempts to synthesize a distraction before up washes the skin you once wore. Sizzling your mind in invisible agony as you begin to melt once more back into a inescapable void. Each huff your spirit takes settles another brick upon your chest. Excruciating

Illustrations of deceit create natures of blind fantasy. They lack vision against the shambling static of eternal darkness. No energy comes from these states of unseeing. They artificially transcend us, only to identify the outside as threats against their pristine chapel of self. They lay a path of delusion, paved by bricks of lies. Weak are guided from spirit as they fall into their eternity of karmic horrors. Madness a byproduct of unrelenting appetite. No salvation comes from attachment. The fruitful harvest of morning will bring brighter times. Leaders of Heart will release the grasp of propaganda from their depths.