Someone said we had time
but it has always been slipping.
Saturn plays tricks on the mind, making things seem as if they've changed but it has never been any different.
Still we're here, under the same sun repeating old things as if they're brand new, feeling as if they've never been done.
Stuck in a prison of illusion; holographic in every way, trying to set fire to this merkaba so that my spirit can levitate.
And turn this cage into a spaceship to reach worlds I never could reach,
to steal the sands of time out of the illusionist's mind is exactly what I seek.
But I'll still be living, cautiously walking without haste across quicksand with a light heart, because a heavy one will just cause me to sink.
Someone said that we have time, but time has us and it is not what we think.
Destroy the barriers created to cause these illusions, and you'll find that they have always been man made.