I'm falling
My lifeless body,  floating through the darkness
A never ending black hole
My bottle has no bottom
It seems it is always full. How can that be? I don't remember..
I can't breath, I'm grasping for air
I feel like I'm drowning...
My mind is hazy, I cannot see
Am I blind?  Am I crazy? Have I lost my mind?
Will I wake up from this nightmare...
I don't have the strength to awaken this time...
Finally peace, the bottle is empty

The devils daughter she was
Birthed from sin
Opposites attracted
One night of
Sadistic
Heavenly
Pleasure
Burnt from her mothers womb
Cries that  awoke
Heaven
&
Hell
She was a beauty unparalleled
Her eyes a contrast
Sclera's were as black as death
But pupil's & iris as
White as silk
She was no ones fool
Knowledge
Satanic
Heavenly
Imbued with in her thoughts
Knowledge was her power
"Angel Winged"
"Devils Horns"
She bathed in holy water
She liked the feel of it upon her skin
"Burning with pleasure"
"Her horns burn bright"
She is akin to both the feelings of
Pain,
&
Pleasure,
For she was of
Heaven
&
Hell
Though both sent lower minions
For the sacrilege birthed
An abomination of beauty and sin
But she was her own person
Not bowing to either above or below,
She was of two worlds,
While living in plain sight,
That girl with black fire in her eyes she is the
Angels  Devil of Purity & *Sin.

Blank tranquility
silence,
The weight of my consciousness
Lifted
The chatter of endless thoughts
Now a low hum
I fill my chest with air
And exhale knowledge
The third eye crusted shut
With years of flouride and impurity
Now beginning to see again
though I am not worthy
Of the majesty it will eventually
Bestow upon me
I will find bodha,
I want to experience
The absolute truth
Sitting with Gautama beneath his Pipal tree
Bathing in his wisdom
For he knows my suffering,
And the long path I have traveled
To understand it
And become a higher being
Rasasvada is my only escape now,
Until I become truely enlightened

Wings set adrift for a tomorrow that worries
for itself.
Wind's plaything whose opulence restores all
retiring worlds.
As if thought perfected down to its wire connects
and disconnects freely the Whole.
Pointedly that Whole knows of itself, and as yet to
know of itself--that lapse that furthers vision in a
flash.
By all soothing shadows that swim hardboiled things...
resigned amongst the transit of other things,
partaking thereby becoming...momentarily.
The welcome home of thing unto itself whose shadowy
screen blew about a holy commune, bows now to its
place to know of it, as an angelic head superseding
gravity.
By blood geared below the surface lapping feverishly...
till a luminosity assays flesh.
Strange the way, The Way is lit...in an instant a world
forgoes itself without changing its heading.
Lone and left to, what's lone and left to...for what
profits an eternity but that which must attain it.