A few lines, a Pathway

From a strong and pure place cometh these lines.

I am that I am
Ciggarettes taste bad now
The ambition must be destroyed

Be ever gratefule
Pound the Earth
Ask for forgiveness

Abandon Thine Ego
Word of Words
Death to Sophia

Fool am I
Reaching now
For the afterword

Realize air
Breathe in life
Finding thoughts

You must love thyself boundlessly
Do this in order that
A vessel you shall become
And overfloweth you shall
And so become God.
Fear not.

The brain doth not create
The nonexsistant.
Reality beyond conception
Such is the brain's pallet.
Listen to your dreams.