...
Come with me to the ancient garden.
Follow my lead, for I am the one that sees-
the realm we intend to carton.
Brace your arms, the channel is near to change,
past the wicked gate into uncertainty.
Our consciousness well indeed derange.
Draw your daggers of focus and cut yourself in,
breathe that innocent breathe,
and lock your eyes within.
Where are your feet, can you see your toes?
The snakes, they slither among us,
pay attention because they know.
Quickly, howl at the brightest stars,
the wolf knows not, where we are,
for we have drifted, into a space so far.
Lift your bracket to support your inner need now.
Ride the tiger, to the lions den,
for he is more serene.
Whisper what you have, an appropriate cost.
For the tampering door man beside us-
has rid us of our cross.
Look into my faded eyes, for they see much clear.
The dark sky embellishes my mind;
Drunk, but sober is my fear.
Trance your body to a different level, at my awkward ground.
Float amongst the clouds, now,
we pick from the garden, what we’ve found.