Scotty B, "Dissolution" (Oct 17, 2013)
As I begin to write,
My head has gone to the office.
I arrange myself to review my dreams,
Enter into this the golden nexus,
Lay down my temptations to the laws I perceive.
A silent form of opulence,
A suspended form of decadence,
A river bathed in moonlight,
And a snake protecting his own coffin.
I can afford this to you,
Wrapped in red,
The sands of these forces may conceal,
They have never lied to me,
That beauty graciously hides.
Seven precious stones singing,
Seven heavenly melodies breeding,
Seven treasured colors,
From the rainbows of immortality.
The butterfly truly does dance with the wind!
As the salamander conjures up her fire,
Coiled amongst her flames.
Sensations of yesterday,
Never obtained access to witness.
The ghosts of ghosts impregnate themselves...
With the mists of my mind.
The perfection of the soul,
The dissolution of my ego.
An enigmatic pragmatism.
Is it justified?
White light travelling,
The halls of disengaged magickal prisms.
A Shepard and his lost dog.
This field leads to the omen.
I am transient and omnipotent,
I am both man and woman.