The Third Eye
Frequent expressions of wonder,
Onto those whom seek,
Distant and foreign lands to most,
In this awoken dream,
Hands perched beside rising conscious,
Invert direction of thought,
Submerged, the pineal opens,
Mystery forever brought,
Inside, I find we do collide,
Confine; only a choice,
Connected as the synapse bridge,
Speaking, without a voice.
Copyright © Shane Rundle | Year Posted 2015
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