It’s in the linear plane
The one that buzzes
Directly above the brow
It’s heavy and foul
Sludge like and slow
Dense with no flow
It is unappealing in color
With a dull toxic glow
It must be rid of
By placing an amulet
Made of Amethyst stone
Upon the glabella
For many days in a row
Until a duplex conduit
Is understood between
Cosmos and soul