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Mythic Journey I stand tall arms spread wide supporting a never-ending sky, the weight of the world upon my shoulders. My dripping life's blood in stigmata martyrdom an apparent atonement for past indiscretion. My nights, fragmented nocturnal journeys through countries undiscovered. Each morning a rebirth. Every repose an underworld excursion epitomized, then to wake and stand again under glaring sun. Pulling back the layers just beneath my surface I am the esoteric principle embodied. The everyman odyssey. To be created. To struggle. To be uncreated. This is the inner mystery. Eternity beckons, already present in the space between each moment. Conditioned phenomena, only as real as its perception. One day, enraptured, propelled by wax wings of gossamer gnosis like an illuminated snowflake I will soar above the painted sky, beyond the heavy fetters of the Earth. A flame, blown out at last.
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