A descent from the ravaging wind
And amongst the forlorn larch I enter
Into the sanctity of an obscured sepulchral beauty
Where noumenal existence fades
To truth concealed within
The corridors of arboreous dimension.
The tendrils of a gossamer phantasm arose
From the ashes of an austere thought unfurled
Outstretched as the singly wisps whirled
A bridling veil of appearance draped upon me.
The wind does not stir the ages
But through rustles of the sylvan deep
I hear the sounds of ancient being
Call forth my soul endlessly.
As nepenthe rid sorrow bound in flesh
Repose in deathly spell
And watch as nous ascends.
Drifting endlessly far from riparian shores
Of streams in the ebbing subconscious flow.
As a wave relapses into latent depths
The self is swallowed by the wells of eternity.
The seas are stained with sorrow and pain
In a rising tide of fleeting continuum.
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