you won't be expecting it
and you probably won't
even want it but it'll hit
you like baseball bat to
the shin and you won't
be able to get back up
for a bit and it'll hurt
like hell and it'll leave
it's mark on you for a
while but everything
fades eventually
and that is love

The postman boy
Has gotten weary of the stories told
Wrongly by dear Oblivia on the yards
Every morning.
The postman boy comes for
The warm-hearted letters of distance sons
But on his hands are letters of slander and
coalition he did not fathom.

Floating,
Above my body  
Questioning my
own Reality

Harmony surrounds me
peaceful tranquility
emanating,
all encompassing
auras of reverie

Atmosphere defies my shape
I will undefine
Shapeless (be ethereal)
Nameless (nonexistance)

I am stuck fast asleep now
Lost in a pensive meditative state
My third eye is awakened
Liberation from cyclic existence (x2)

I am washed with zen
Cleansing me of my own sins
Real 
Bliss exists it's intrinsic

From One we stem
As One we'll find our way
No more pain emotions unfold
No more pain, No more straying

Open
Your mind
Focus
New light
(Floating above my own body)

you should be
dehydrating
from the
sun,

not
tears
wasted on
those
who have
ceased
to care

you appear
in a
breeze

rustling
a few
of my
leaves

only to
disappear
as soon
as i
remember
you