"Reality is not always probable, or likely." -Jorge Luis Borges At your doorstep Cloaked in negative space First frost aches To lay its claim At the threshold Between without and within First foot prints Disgrace the virgin soil Ignoring refusal Let the winter in Indian Summer Defiant forever Let winter have its way Through hollow insides Made of branching halls First step falls Vanishing reasons I chose this course Death is in season Inward to source INITIATION Vanishing reasons I chose this course DISINTEGRATION Death is in Season Step inside... One thousand faces Stare back from their fractured origin In turn Turn another corner And lose my place A blue print for disorder The Way of Disarray Backward glare Burnished obsidian walls Reflect the endings That will never... Unfold Fold the corners over To hold my place The panic feels so familiar In a breath-work maze Clear the air Ceremonial smoke rings Fill the creases Where the trauma collects You better keep your thought forms clean How we, the Conjured, seek To breach the compass of this dream Illumination Elimination Tangental slipstreams Derail our train of thought Stationed in fog Composing Decompositions In constant revision Infinite indecision Encaged Within a finite space Help me hide it away Under thin coats of cracking paint Under smothering soundscapes Where every layer I've made Competes for a place Enchanting parlor tricks And slights of hand Made me a god Here in obscurity Confined to making believe So help me wish it away... But how long Yeah, how long Before I'd beg to bring it back into life? To bring it into the blue grey The Grey matters Matters of the Maker Mark and Measure Locus of control Order, theorized Crooked, our belief In the straight line Leave room for failure One fatal mistake That human touch Planning its own obsolescence The scent of senescence Permeates Our vast potential Fated to fade Our monuments Willing its own expiration Ground to powder Chaos, improvised Stolen fire Blessed are the thieves In these end times Distill it down into a single line Meet the demands of the mountainside Compromise is such a loaded word When landslides are singing Hermetic melodies Only we could hear We clutch the chords Forgotten anthems reappear Encoded messages Only we could speak In native tongues Ancient strains have gone to seed Entangled crossroads Only we could see Beyond the fear Our new creation will be gleaned From the wastelands Of the insincere Winged beauty she looms Inside a derelict cocoon Inspiration strikes Under flashing flood lights Winged beauty emerge To search this tortured world for new growth Resurface, Recreate, and Redeem Shades Of night Blossoming Within These Laced Pathways Of Hekate's Garden Retrace Mind streams Following Her lead Wellsprings Whispering The Rites of INITIATION I chose this course DISINTEGRATION Inward to source PREVERBERATIONS Follow the stations Through branching halls ANNIHILATION Fever breaks my fall Dionysus, good heavens You've gone to pieces In search of closure, you went within... Everything and Nothing Clashed In counter movements, Rotating spins- A dream, A dream And nothing more. Chart the startling curves Of your dementia (No way out) Map the staggering depths Of one dimension (No way out) Like clockwork witchcraft One must suffer to pass Suffer to Pass Like clockwork witchcraft My dreams now abandon me Suffer To Pass In time, you'll add my shadow To your overspilling urn And match my every move Step for step, turn for turn Reclaimed by a destiny I revoked A trajectory, resigned Writhing In surrender Storm clouds gather in this altered state Hard-wired To the recklessness of perception Bathed in artificial light Steeped in fabricated time Storm clouds gather in this altered state Ever-spinning, The Great Wheel: Void of progress. Ever-Branching, The Great Work: Grieve the dying Dying art Art of process Tunnel visions Wander without aim Through the Gauntlet. Spirit Guides, Forward Exits- Disembodied nights Shrouded in war paint; Losing mind To behold The Other side