All that space that fills chaos black And white light so full and seamless (dreams on the dream-filled dreamer)
And to what in all this do I cleave to?
All space that begins and ends with this pen Lights out and smoking gun pipes And the splintered nature of oaken peace floats And the castaways cower In desperation towers
All spaces filled with red In red love In love In roses In thorns and hectic resonance In shapes and numbers blank pick a spiral to fall into Pick doubts to hang from The Nile is descending and kneels before
All things that revolve and emanate a melody From the frequency of a lost souls waltz (The Sphinx) Rising and falling as one born of nothing a small ripple of delight In the heart of a seekers lost raga Faces painted for the play the colours dripping All severed
All mind returns Embrace the illusion whole And swallowed up what remains Barely seen to resonate a life in stagnant shallows
Lustful of every apple that grows in Saharan soil Enacting this material philosophy Masks of wistful junk and oceans dry
The angels rebel With no heroes for our temples And no magic left to try