on a stick,
the dough is sour,
the plane lifts off, into cosmos - and beyond,
my mind expanding,
that aerie feel,
standing on a grand balcony,
surrender,
what view
i dare say,
..but i dare not think,
when speared,
by the mystical caduceus staff
i die into oblivion,
somehow still blinking,
torturous,
magickal,
wonder and awe, every time,
i do not cease to exist,
still blinking,
and the afternoon became a dark night,
in the empty pool,
'tis just another limbo,
wonder and awe,
and dread,
why can't i use the staff,
as a walking stave,
without a firm grip, i can never be steady
while in the abyss
no matter how many a times,
i swirl into dimensional timelessness,
always a waking nightmare,
'tis dangerous to walk on unsteady ground,
on quicksand and mound
without a firm grip,
around the caduceus staff,
but i do not own it,
somehow it owns me,
in a sense that i have to surrender my consciouness,
to ride through the otherwise forbidden gate,
on the stormy waves,
in search of the hidden
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