Dim fire-gold and mourning-red swirl through and are those voices. Cannot stay, away they say swirling counterclockwise and up and away I'm falling
up the wishing well into this weighted shapely realm of edges influid, all stones piled up
in myriads. Godhead is left me and I am alone here again, viewing out from this noplace the body. Soon sleep
overtakes slipping under leaden sheets of blubber steaming over and blocking like eyeslids to the sun that realm of infinity called
one, all , one. O Mother keep me well until I return into darkeness as now I lie back, exhausted under one trillion protons'
forces pushmepullyou together babbling in my ears fain sloshing,
now rhythmic distant lullabye how well
you'll be,
how well
you'l be. Is this my prison to be? No, I will learn to love it
and instead I must first forget; this soul, Tabula Rasa.