'Little bug's dream in A Sleep,
****** by the cracks of Its rug.'
~

'for it to Be,
demands Are its role,
without such is becoming fool's mystery in which,
Truth nurtures nothing for its innocence.'

'from its refacing circle,
an opaque decoration grew,
the topography of rugs are servents,
without a pattern's self to be.'

'owns,
observes its observation,
impressive 'I' thought,
amnesia,
falls from trees,
like autumn leaves.'

'...my terms are rather simple,
taking nothing on demand,
as I observe...
I see the one who does!'
~

'collective's feast!
memorials borrowed,
precisely articulating within as a beast,
chewing its love,
yet slaves a great effort when comes to swallow.'

'A vertical chute has no water in Its cradle,
yet,
full of broken paddles!'
~

'it gives, but is not a giver,
it loves, but is not a lover,
it breathes but is not a breather,
it exists but is not a life,
there is no mystery within the growth,
of its practice in which there is no exercise,
no realisation reaches it.'

'In a haven unknown by name,
on board's arctic void,
life's a mirror of death voyage.'
~

''Two hundred and six bones within 'I thought's ***!
Broiling Its beginning and Its end at once.''
~

'In the cracks of its blissful inferno,
Eye's blind!'
~

Only once 'I' ever understood me,
When I didn't understand me.

'the belive of not thinking that which is already believed,
as miracle hikes on the rooftops once in a life 'time',
characters never witness through their sealed windows.'

All 'her' lovely companions are faded and gone,
'Her' words among mankind have no lips, nor tongue,
O unawakened earth,
Hear the trumpet of prophecy,
O wind,
The shepherd sings and dances alone,
Inside 'her' delight of blooming,
'He' belongs.

'Δεν κατανοεί την πλατφόρμα της,
Μια αίσθηση αυξάνεται μόνο για να μειώσει,
Ενώ ο θάνατος έρχεται στη ζωή.'

'its mind',
'its thoughts'
are cinema's choreography.
o, forgotten master,
'your' steps are the One that no one can remember,
but 'you' dance!
unseen,
tracing the lost,
is beginning to show,
its own end,
'It' knew this which now,
'it' was then and yet,
'I' can only pretend.'

O, 'true' Love! Did you get hit?
Then kept hitting, kept going,
killing ideas of having a self!
Now, watch out for that special magician,
the one who has already vanished,
as for sure is the biggest hit performer of all.
~

It sat down to reconsider its beliefs and yet...
felt hungry then began to struggle,
pulling hard so it can chew its head!
~

'Innocence, a luscious breath's velvet!
When a 'baby's born,
all specks are bright,
'grown' in and out of Its dead cradle.'
~

'Hello, you epic tool!
You know...
'I thought' is none existent.
Merely a fool,
sailing within its sinking boat!'
~

In the depths of winter, I finally learned that in me, there is a great summer, where silence becomes a symphony of a blind man's privilege to hear. I, pleased needn't be, as God knows I tried too hard, too long, too many times! I do not know, nor I belong. Freedom, so sweet, there's no flavour left in me for you to master.  
~

'firmly allocated source,
fabricates its vessels of creation,
in this Golden irreversible pause,
of your mutable humane mutation.'

'Bones,
'they' demolished!
As I sprawled down
held within a body,
''overheard its sounds'',
the cracks of sorrows.
Flesh,
one beat within another!
Rhymes the rhythm of a heart,
I dissected but couldn't rediscover yet.
Remembrance,
what is that on your 'summit'!
Waving a wand...
bones' flesh of 'major fairies'
squatting One's mind...'
~

'had nothing to lose,
nothing to gain,
...
delivering  life,
birthing pain,
it was dying alive.'

Oh, Love!
You have eternally looked for a lover...
As it is...
Now pale and quiet,
It is...
already 'dead'.
~

'...in Its innocent dance,
all bones are healed,
by breaking One by One and 'I',
am Its most glorious,
pill of illusion.'
~

'lost' its armour,
had One so it began,
simulated prelude,
bored,
transpired,
approved,
'found' its armour,
never had One so it began...
forming a pillar,
pure creation,
was it done...?

'it ranted!
ten feet tall ran onward.
tracing trails,
it took its walks for granted.
digesting inabilities gain,
A '*******',
finds the strength within its knowing that will never walk again.'

Intentions, a dreadlocked mind of a poor yet gifted creator, drawing rainbows in jail cells, visualising infinity of how soon is too long to comb its extensions. A freeman in a guardhouse is a hostage of a guaranteed glory's probation.  
~

'Forbear explanations for 'I am' hardly comprehending,
revelations filling 'wooden' boxes,
decomposed within my placid stream...'
~

'I thought I saw a fish, but no...It was a fox,
over the rocks in its demand to regain,
overhears One 'man' within a million that's sinking.'
~

'...for I am rapidly mistaken,
undeniably convinced,
for I am free as caged,
a gift's forsaken theme,
for I am vertigo's alert of anguished bliss...
from earth rotating in my sleep.'
~

Life's priory sounds are laud in search of a 'language'.
In silence, Its echoes are dead.
~

All within One!
Waves are coming...
never ready,
never steady...
Go!

'Once I sat engaged and chatting, much I marvelled the supreme... ''Bliss!'' Chuckled I, ''yes bliss!'',
tormentor of my dreams.'
🙏
~

'loud and clear,
talks to God
until its voice was lost,
but should I worry dear,
within my claim of self,
it's simply an illusion,
it dreams itself awake,
'I' dissipate whenever here.'

It didn't plant it.
It didn't flood it down.
It didn't abolish it reasonably.
It didn't alter my soul according to the 'fashion'.
Rather, served its most uncompromising visions mercilessly!
It flicked the flicker.
Began flicking,
Flared conquered all in vain.
-Nothing- pronounced,
-Something in the brain-
Was 'performing'.

The dream state, powerless 'human' retreat! Isn't it wonderful to run away or be devoured by a 'tiger', not knowing that you are sleeping in bed? Awaken state, powerful 'human' deceit, as nine billion 'gurus' are dreaming of chasing after One 'tiger', some '****' for its knowledge, some for its meat.
~

...if it ever comes,
then breaks upon its 'own' release!
Pain and bliss are cookies I can taste,
ah, Peace,
the way 'they' crumble...
in the barrel of beliefs,
is the most convincing puddle of conventions,
yet I never find 'my' self to Be.
~

'Double helix' winds around each other in a twisted ladder, their strong backbones like an 'old poem' crashes in between lines...As the spectrum turns white, only a blind can find its eyes and see the truth's written in the wind.
~

Πώς μπορεί κάτι να είναι όμορφο ή πώς μπορεί κάποιος να είναι αξιαγάπητος ... Τα αντικείμενα δεν είναι όμορφα και οι άνθρωποι δεν είναι αξιαγάπητοι. Η αυτοσυνείδητη επίγνωση είναι πραγματικά αξιαγάπητη, καθώς όλη η αγάπη είναι μόνο για τον εαυτό.
...

''...worth's true 'self',
prized by none.''
~

'I heard a splendid
unknown boohooing
in a realm full of nobodies,
of its nothing
Nature buries all,
for the one nominee's diligent fall.'
~

we all adored the fireplace built-in our beloved library,
its greatest mission of keeping us glowing while browsing,
and oh dear, we browsed, halfway through which,
knowledge was left barefoot in front of its speech,
inhumane master of effort,
exercising pack of matches for its very reach,
it took only One spark of blasted spiritual paper,
as I recollect, Joy titled it...
'' appropriate negligence ''
a pleasing story, 'I' thought,
yet wrangles with Joy as agreed,
for nothing indeed.

Perfect between breath assets!
Freedom, such a goody!
To have experienced freedom from time to time is madness!
How can anyone experience 'freedom' at all!
It is merely a background...
In which all experiences happen from time to time.
Mad, mad world!
~

'A Human without a ''home'' is seen as homeless...
But we all are...Until!'
~

'The chef's hands are both chopped, 'A la Carte'!
On exquisite menus,
the bland Art of Bon Appetites
is for those served in Its sleep.'
~

An Era of sacred self-knowledge is here, restoring its pagodas of wicked and divine humanity' unspoken virtue, within the illusions of mortals, It suffers lives of conscious' dreaming its immortal.  
~

Life,
One story after another...
A theme,
I know,
Am awake in a dream.
~

'I's ground peculiar's moulding,
characters without a sound,
none of them knows why It can not remember,
nor how It forgot.'
~