carry me through lands of dreams
sleepy shamans oaths perceived
the new humans rewrite their creed
to reconstruct the codes beneath.
as sands of time brush through my lungs,
beneath where silver moons once hung,
the catalyst for earths progressions,
tantric winds of gods procession
are pulled to fuel the fires in our chest.
to fuel the fires in us.

ride the colors of the wind, my friend;
dance with death until your end.
the serpentine son rises to speak eternal truths
and soon his weary eyes will rest upon you.

the deepest shades of blue green hue
from the swoon of palaces
dreamt of once, so long ago
where trees from ancient soils will grow
and we, collect their morning dew.