Visual Blur

The Cannabis Queen Rides her Snow Chariot A glass shard still remains in his heart And his heart still remains ice. This is his true state of existence. He worships the Queen, Because now, all is pure, White and still. He kisses the back of her palm In deep submission She smiles and takes him to her lap And together they ride the snow filled country side. Here, there is only love, Only acceptance, Redemption and forgiveness. Together they merge into the fog, Their silhouettes lost in a holy blur. In a cold secret chamber, The maid and the drunkard make love. She kisses him not, For his mouth reeks of wine. N yet she clasps to him and does not let go. There is, Such passion, Such want, That nothing stops her from having him. And as she moves rhythmically on top of him She looks into his eyes Where the power of wine The power of an ****** The power of a sleepless night Blur into a holy blur. In a place called Xibalba Through which the dead pass From the confinement called life To the liberation called death One soul readies to take the plunge, To come to terms, To be one with the eternal. In one cosmic leap, the soul Splits into a million tiny pieces, Of its many laughs Of its many cries Of its many loves and hatreds And its each tiny emotion Each tiny memory That came to be in its journey through life, Becomes a star, Studding the eternal silver sky, And transforming it into a holy visual blur.