Convergence

I thought of Hindus and Sufis and Mystics and Love and this Center perforated by emotions; to have this feeling, this castle of legions, sorting through spiritual texts.

I died that night, abandoned to dragons, seeking where humans were wanting. I fell abysmal, this inner challenge, as languished as souls; to have this second, where voices plummet, to arouse the inner mystic. Oils permeated the winds, as I chanted for days, deprived of rest; the city was a desert, a cactus was a rose, and swans surrounded my distance. I had to see it, that altered by life, as filled with hypomania. It churned in styles, as one drugged by love, as one infused by vogue; to have this Heart, as chakra and force, where spirits roam the terrains. Such was reverie—a promenade of souls, a beach of rituals; we felt for death, this solo experience, as flying through spheres. I loved us more, this deep dementia, that closer to Chambers: the darkness of days, the candles of nights, as one enchanted by this other world.

I lived that night, through a myriad of souls, to have that encounter—as such convergence, a chant streaming within, a fist full of energies; as crying to live, as one losing it all, as one barefaced intoxicated…but how to escape, this fated hand, lunging towards a brick statue. It’s more the highways, the coast of islands, a journey searching for symmetry; where some would dance, as reaching forward, but only for selfish gain; and some would laugh, to smell such fumes, emanating from one soul. I cried an exit, this bliss of minds, this euphoric stature; to love as loveless, the noon of days, sipping on chi: it altered dimensions; I would never return; as one split and opened towards divinity.