Dynamite (Original Poetry)

I gaze into the maze and notice
how you burn through the roof of my intentions.
I spit fire, yet my veins continue to struggle
despite the pressure that is released
from the neighboring castles of marble.
Here comes the crystal spiral
I think to myself and wonder.
It’s different this time,
more succulent, more vibrant.
Millions trapped in a nonchalant color
falling prey to a sound that transpires
by entangling our multi-dimensional musical instrument
into a pool of non-playing characters
distracting us with their meaningless gutter.
Three, six, nine,
are powerful numbers
they unlock the door to the sacred triangle
an octahedron, to be more precise
housing two pyramids, one upright
the other a mirror image
harboring the beautiful resources
that lie underground.
Your spirit knows this
no matter how hard the physical realm
tries to twist your perception
and turn you into a fan of deception.
Drop into your heart and watch
how the program goes wild.
Observe the hemispheres partner up
to fuel the dynamite hidden in plain sight.
Push that spinal fluid quicker into your third eye
it will thank you by revealing to you
the path you’ve chosen when you decided
to participate in the game of life.
Image by Daniela S. aka @wayofaiki


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