I wasn't on earth, not anymore
I wend one's way to a tranquil ambience whilst transcending my divine self
to a higher Cosmic Celestial being
at the time of eternal halcyon...
the Lacuna,that's what they called it in this time (Space was highly praised)

Suddenly life was unending
I guess that's why they use
light years here
it's counter intuitive

A cosmic pilgrim,
in a buoyantly state..
I peregrinated my way to the place in space
I seeked to fill my existence or of it to fill its existence the aftermath resulted twins

My burning hanker being doused with every feeling of passing an atom, I began to feel more drawned to my destination

From a distance, a visual perception of my terminus appeared before me

Jupiter

The third realm to the
East of my origin with
the four daemons seated in
an aligned parallel order manifesting themselves before my eyes..

Ganymede the colossal daemon
The ancient of them all

Callisto the Cherry blossom
the most alluring, artistic and gratifying in sight of all daemons.

Io the Sun's sister

The last daemon, Europa
the soft Pearl

The sight juxtaposed one's eyes for God's
I never felt so alive before
this was the cream of the crop
of the peacefull atmosphere in space..
sending an aesthetic tsunami tide to my soul's core

I belonged

I had coffee and a cigarette for breakfast
So yeah I'm doing fine
I've become good at taking weight off of other peoples shoulders
and
Searching for happiness in everything

I stand here;
outside my balcony
amidst darkness
in the company
of loneliness

My soul impertaburbly
trapped between forlornness
and peacefulness


Yin and Yang perhaps,

Forlorn because the soul,
wounded and damaged perniciously by loneliness..

And peace;
because the herb...
well the herb heals
to some extent

My vessel the arena

On a forbidden course
Yang battles Yin
the odds are in his favor
THC to Yin is like aconite to wolves;

And so he weakens with every hit

The melee ends
like it was destined to
tranquil and pure bliss prevail

At that moment;
the wind starts to sing her song

Calling, whistling to his lover
the king of the night
she whistles a beautiful song
that sounds of a gentle breeze
zephyr like pushing aside clouds that
guard his majesty;
grandiosely his image is revealed
in the nightlife

Observe they all gather under the nightsky;
selenophiles
far away from each other
all in different worlds
but it's this energy that coheres them here
together

The wind starts to sing
the song of halcyon,
ogling at the moon
in veneration and exhilaration
selenophiles danced away into the night.

Art is a hell of a *******
drug, I tell you
it surreptitiously creeps
into you in a way that is
utterly indecipherable,

and lures you deep;
deep into it as the void above...

For the eye loves
what it sees,
and what's been seen
by the eye
is rather fascinating to the soul,

Amidst all these
Overwhelming emotions,
a harmonic converge
between the eye and the soul
is created,

Fostering a sui generis ecstatic rhapsody!