Searching the finite threads of mortality
for some meaning or pattern in the
Infinite’s dance of thoughtless neutrality~

Having climbed the fast inconscient realms
of supreme ignorance and having fallen
face down in the web of duality, he finally
suckles the sweet and pregnant nothingness
that is here when all else is gone~ 
I Am That I Am!

Every experience, a golden rung on
the ladder of accension, each a blessing
above the lie of right and wrong~

The gutter births a king, a saint, a prophet
who’s heart knows all, who’s mind is empty,
who’s lips are sealed~

The great pretender glimpses the shadowy
outlines of his own sweet lie, but trembles not
in the face of fearful fancy~

For he knows beyond knowing that circles
are not circles unless complete, through
the gift of dark ignorance, degredation,
utter humiliation and annhilation~
I Am That I AM~



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