Serve.

Serve.
We are here to serve.
Serve whom?
Earth’s womb…
Amnesiac amniotic sac…
We swim blind under alien stars and cheese wheel moon.
Hanging over our heads lies, doom…
Fantastic fjords…
Odin’s fiery eye in the sky…
How dare we?
How dare we not dare…
…to soar in rightful places,
or uplift our faces just so light graces
us with sensations of inclusiveness?
Not worlds apart from the resonance that mirrors the rhythms of our hearts…
Pound for pound; beat for beat…
Sound for sound; too deep for sleep…
I am awareness lying in these sheets,
rehashing mental repast,
relieved at times upon returning to realized reality,
thankful that regret resides not in retrospect perpetually,
but fades away with the dawn.
This nights mischief leaves not a misfit.
No shoe horn necessary…
Shackle shoes return to the ethers
along with prospective inevitable bunions.
Learning again that I am not mind…
this collection and OS.
I am user not usee.
Do you see.
Matters not.
For my eyes only…
The term lonely, often used loosely…
I am ever in great company.
I take stock in gratitude in the rising.
I can’t stop. I’m a happy dude. Internally enterprising,
investing in self conquest, ingesting the best concepts…
Digesting metabolically swift…
Divesting myself of all the bullshit…
and horseshit of worship of overabundance of warships…
Might makes right in law books and spurious scriptures…
The “right” take life feeding furious predilections,
fueled by desensitization and trust in united nations.
Flames fanned by flapping flags…
Governed like scooters so as not to soar,
relegated to under-roofers and closers of doors…
Yet, when real reality knocks, stay still losing composure.
Are you choral component or co-composer?
Hmmm…
Who am I? what am I?
By what paradigm do I plot my lines?
Do I trust what I’m given or trust what I find
in places it is said one shouldn’t look
for answers for they’re all in the back of the book…
But those are the answers to their questions not mine.
Who are they anyway, for what they say to have any weight,
to outbalance what I attain in a meditative state… of mind…
in the freedom of a dance or a strenuous climb,
that dashes limitations to dust in the distance.
The drums of a far off powwow wafting
in to windows as the scent of resistance,
hinting at the power of perpetual persistence .
in service of the wisdom of the eternal witness…
One Love.
Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion

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