The Empyrean

Folder: 
Religion

 

This is one for the poets

Two for the reals 

Khalil to the Gibran

Pray each day for three sets of meals

Four is in store

Refining all five of my senses

A sextet of skills 

So that I may one day lay 

In the Empyrean

The ascension of the millenarian

Among 7 billion souls

Far too many stories to unfold

 

At the bank

Of

Heaven and Hell

Seven layers, seven circles

More than 7 dimensions

Possibly eleven

All theories of speculation

Perhaps,

There is no heaven

 

Interconnected in speculation

Variations in belief

Chaos reigns as spectatorship ensues

Knowledge is sought

Above those who accuse

Gliding among the stars

It is my calling

Into the abyss 

My heart's gone cold

Looking for hands to hold

 

The Empyrean

Is where I lay atop

On plush billows

Ever so soft

A specter of myself floats below

Now unbeknownst; someone that I used to know

All set in between

Congenial dreams

And flesh that screams

 

Wringing those who bleed

Let those who plead be freed

The need to plant the seed

 

Confusing those who read

Alluring those who dream.

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