Ever - Coming : SUN
IN Palm - Through : IT
SPACE MARKS
Date : 6 /30 / 2021
Time Integration [10:51 AM , 2:26 PM]
Location : Shaolin
ETERNAL WORDS
Ever-Coming:SUN
I - U : Palace, OF
Right : Use, Any : Plane
/
Let Us - give : Thanks !
Four : Body & Spirit
Used Rightly - Full : Power
Over-coming illusions;
Time & Circumstance
Contraction of Nuit - UP
ON : Hadit - Expansion - IN
Nuit ; Bounding Finite
Ra-Hoor-Khuit
All : Ways - Be : Twain
Great & Small, With : In
/
HU:Man - Work : Building
Will, creative imagination
Under direction - UNIVERSE
/
GEO:METER - First, Noble
Science of ALL : Learning
Math of Magister
Four - Angles , Formed
In - THE : Womb
3, 4, 5 ; square
And A : Line - Two
LOGOS Divine
/
Gods - Forces Astro, Logical
Other-Wise ; those Beyond
HU:Man : UP-ON : Life
A: Per- SUN has Free-Will
Two : Move, A : gain-st
THE : Light ; In : S(la/al)ve
Liberating ‘ Those - WH(O/OM)
Came - Be : Four
A: Door
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Marcus Romano and writers in Poets and other communities.
My Tolerated Self
I'd like to think I'd escape for better days. Even though the needles pricking into my skin may urge me to stay put, we are not meant for boxes and contraptions that will keep us inside. The needles aren't real, they are like bugs crawling on my skin—those feelings will fade with clarity, but some days I am unwilling to step outside of my tolerated self; my bones crumble at the idea of a future uncertain. I'm used to the boxes that keep me in place even though I know I can walk right through them and I'd be fine.
By Andi Leigh4 days ago in Poets
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.