Rejoicing In The Death Of You

Lost in a world where Man rules, where is the exit so easily hidden from our perceptive embraces? Lonely and wondering amidst the embers of a dying flame we search and seek the hand of just righteousness declaring in wonder the beauty of Ourselves. Nothing reveals ourselves like Ourselves. Looking, searching, discovering, whatever it is that describes the no-seeing reveals little other than what we envision for ourselves.

To and fro we await the passage of events foretold by some long lost vision of grandeur. Shall we wait forever?

Battling our wits we outsmart ourselves seemingly so simple and with little effort. Are we still surprised then, by the demonstration of what we have released? Engaging ourselves we become ourselves. Rising above we become Ourselves. Nothing has changed and ever will.

Entertaining ourselves we embody the Life we create, choosing little other than creation. Eternity exists for our sole pleasure and so the race begins. Striving to die we live with hopes of destruction and will make due with nothing else.

Here we are, enwrapped within the turmoil of our own choosing. Can you choose otherwise or are the bonds of the mind too overwhelming? Letting go is as easy as holding on, but fooling ourselves seems to never end. What better wish to give than the imagination of death. 'To know me is to Know Me.' You are the path of your own enlightenment. Being the shining star you are, I humbly dedicate the entirety of existence to You. If that isn't enough, surely there is more. :-)

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