How do we take control of and navigate our story once we’re dead?

How do we write the wrongs of half-truths that victors have written and said?

Seared into our minds like a brand cast

You see, we don’t see you for what you were

We only see you as how you were told

Are you real or an illusion or partially true?

To become immortal, you must devour
the gods and proceed with the diety of fear

As the sandy desert is a hummingbird with wings of hovering heat

Weightless idler, forever in love with the acanthus leaf

And the nectar of the far Aegean womb

A sprinkle of scintillating blue refracting off lapis lazuli sea

We will lap up this lavish abundance while rowing the waves in the River Nile

The majestic pyramid is a source of God’s might and the most hidden retreat of light

In the realm symbology of shapes and symbols

The body embodies the quality of a pyramid

The pyramid is the owner of silence

The sides of the pyramid are upheld by the erect back of silence

Its apex is held by the inner observer.

~DiosRaw, 18/09/21


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