That blur which burns away the very mind
look that from which direction as it sets
one hundred golden coins and all aligned
upon the ides of watching eye forgets.
a soothing radiation now unfolds
its essence lingers kundalini still
this tale of the earth is still untold
by poison of its cure from solus swill
this rapture in its rarest form imbue
the song and dance of nations into prism
without its essence tainted convelude
and its white spot burning from its wisdom
this spot is not a permanent affect
but it causes thinking sonne dedirect.
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