Planet Nibiru
In sacred India, where incense weeps,
I found the guru, where silence sleeps.
Swami Vivekananda, eyes like flame,
Said, “Today, we travel beyond name.”
“Where to?” I asked with mortal breath.
He smiled and said, “Beyond life and death—
To Nibiru, Planet X of old,
Where cosmic secrets are retold.”
We bathed in Ganges, pure and deep,
Where time dissolves and gods still sleep.
In robes of white, twelve candles high,
Sandalwood smoke curled to the sky.
The room grew dense with mystic air,
The veil was thin, no space, no where.
We closed our eyes—then disappeared,
To where no human soul had steered.
On Nibiru, the light was gold,
With twelve-layered skies and secrets untold.
Beings of plasma, grace, and fire,
Living in realms forever higher.
They shift their form, they bend the light,
They move in thought, near speed of sight.
They speak in tone, in pulse and stream,
They dream the stars into their dream.
They eat not food, but cosmic ray,
They drink the dawn and sleep in day.
Their science is what mystics seek,
Their silence louder than we speak.
I stood in awe, a breathless flame,
Then back through stars and time I came.
I asked the sage, “Will Earth arise
To such a state, beyond the skies?”
He touched my hand and gently said,
“The living rise, the sleeping dead.
Nibiru’s kin now walk your lands,
To guide you back with unseen hands.”
Now when I dream, I hear their song,
A world where none can suffer wrong.
The stars remember, and so do you—
What once was lost, will rise anew.
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