Higher 'planes of being' converse through means
ungraspable, by those who've failed to start
their quest for clarity. We're like machines,
until we mend our minds. We must outsmart

the negative and ancient twists of brain
which plague our every turn. Until the time
arrives when we have killed, all that is vain
and violent in us, we'll live in slime.

High time we started march to rarer zones.
For those aware, that know we can't stay here,
and let the quicksand swallow down our bones,
we'd better move to overwhelm our Fear,

and start a holy war on Sloth. In time,
the outcome's end, will calm and coalesce,
to then become your rhythm, rock and rhyme.
Super-conscious self control gives 'yes',

a whole new range and density. 'Master',
is not a word at which jeer and sneer.
Who doesn't wish to be a little faster,
to stay beyond diaster's bombadier?

Belief in dogmas signify a weak
and lazy mind. To know a thing takes work,
to learn what lays behind. A mountain's peak
takes clever skills to climb. Slack thinkers shirk

those moves that might demand change to their limp
and sluggish patterns of stone-butt sleep.
Heads of cheese, arn't much brighter than a chimp,
and mostly earn the fuss, they come to reap.

A full assault to bring 'recoding change'
to how and where we greet each dawn and day,
must be ramped into place. This may seem strange,
to shed Persona's skin, but its the way

the Cosmos meant we liberate the seed
we are. A Consciousness, not beholden to hooks
that snag and snuff our Being, means one has freed
that mythic steed with wings, from the old books.