The Mirage of Dreaming
The time of now, the play of now, all encompass the compassion of Eternity awaiting it’s final stroke of finality. The end is near, do you feel the passage of time washing through you in it’s effort of awakening the sleeping giant?
Slumbering in it’s sleep, surrealism comes to pass. Am I there, or am I here? Where is it that I hold council? Selfishly ignoring requests, the giant dimly remembers some passing thought into which obscurity finds safe harbor. Awake oh warrior of the night, the real has never left your side.
Comforting in it’s grasp of nebulous flesh, the seeker delights. Can the rewards of existence be far behind?