Meandering Through The Rivers Of My Spirit Poem by Piscine Kipling

Thoughts are flowing freely like the perfectly arranged melody that was the backdropp music to God's immaculately grotesque creation of Man's mind right after the divinely colossal and perfectly wholesome
creation of Man's playground.
His creation was destined to live out two purposes, neither which can coexist
beside each other. One was to asunder the lands and each other to draw from it the very power that the
Cosmos
possess and the other was to live in perfect harmony and balance under the watchful protection of the creator.

Chanted by an unholy and all the while deceitful imposter into the ears of leaders and the docile followers
were words such as victory, gain, abundance, power and God's will.

It echoed disturbingly through their minds and twisted their palatable collective conscious.
Ringing loudly,
some parts so distinct and memorable that it makes one forget about the teachings that was born into us
when we were at the only time of pureness which was also the only time we were holy.

To find the path, with light that shines from under each perfectly shaped stone tile
and overhead far above the journeyman's head,
a light that never fades and in which to look directly into it causes no blindness
but visions of benign futures and acts that will renew mankind.

And walking on the path, nothing can be felt except the soothing and soft relaxation of God's majestically
aged beard.

At the end of this path is a door that leads us into nothingness, into mindful oblivion.
Nothingness,
which existed
before the universe and god was made, and holds itself master of all things material.

The final days of a long and harsh era are yet to conclude but to look into the eyes of the universe
and stare for it days and nights,
brings about a peace within ourselves
that we will never experience again
until the second after our demise.