The tangled karma webs we weave

At the bottom of the sky which has no end
except in mind you’ll find me languishing
alone like the python around the
trunk of the golden apple
tree in the garden
at the bottom
of the sea
in Hellene
and there I wait
to strike at anyone
who would dare to lift
my veil of ignorance; what
manner of man or beast am I
who prefers lust to enlightenment
I would be in a tent of silence in the
Rub al Kali a thousand miles from anyone
in any direction but the sun who gives and takes
my energy as one act of devotion to its never ending
job of burning hydrogen in return for light without ever
complaining and one day too it will grow old and blue just
like me,the broken hearted one who cannot touch the dark side
of the moon without the solar system collapsing; unrequited love
as surely as Atlas cannot move without untold harm upon us raining down

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