Too Safe

Soul lost in space amidst a wandering sea
where illumination wells as a light force within me
bare in body and raw to the earth
the age of Aquarius enters elemental rebirth

unaffected, however fractured by lies
puppet mastered strings perpetually disguise
behind the scenes criminals breach
the artillery used far exceeds atomic reach a beaten down and worthless ship
the Poet writes as she hears their cries

lifelong slavery subjected to a generous submission
were now burdened by atrocities leaving us dirt cheap
“I don’t know about you but this is giving me the creeps”

With world wars waged for nothing more short of a cause
within a paradoxical labyrinth we’ve stopped counting the stars
roaming whiskey bars
to refine an affinity for change
displayed and so effortlessly aligned;
without further functioning though systematic in design

Plasticity overtakes a citadel by nuclear surprise
susceptible in nature to the Crown of psychic minds
rescued however reconstructed by crystalline skies
Miasma in affect; foreseen and Heaven sent
for new beginnings the Mystic joins new realms to further repent
healing traumas dug in trenches with immortality as intent
to recreate, presently prepare or propagate
the truth reformed as an enemy of the State
where detachment of the heightened senses reminds
our trodden hearts and desperate minds of expansion realized

Possesors processed, perplexed though quick in wit
our ley lines corrupted to cover the Grid
starborn raised now rightfully full of shit
“all of this for a fucking kid”
God above how your jokes soothingly fit;
untroubled innately in our exploration of wild flowers where
heavy souls lend whispers upon new winds
in such calmness the devils mark a territorial descent
tumultuous vibrations seeking a cosmic cloud of debris
below gusting winds gather to gratify interplanetary leaps
to fortuitously invade inner taverns isolating mass graves
Dead Seas lined open air to grace the presence of dead space
Triangulated in distaste;
Minds held captive, erased
seeing beyond yet failing to rassion our mistakes
“Why does everything feel so fucking fake?”
repressed to repulsion by hollow sensations we create
in lesser planes we lie actively awake
the Sleepers accepting new roles
abandoning a once radical fate
sacrifices reaped to slow the pace
meticulous methods in measure
to complete the ancestral levels
few of the fallen angels have saved

Misguided and dazed;
empty-eyed in their hypnosis though courageously brave
we are crossing narrow waters to reincarnate higher states
to the ‘promised land’ delivered by a final deceptive chase
calling forth upon the New Wave;
and sent miles straying nomads breaking old chains
steadily boarded upon poor-lit freight trains
we are the free souls who remain
Eternally saved

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