The Warrior poet

Who could know what you saw? The leaves, they covered the trail of the getaway. Who could have heard your erudite voice, if you had merely whispered afraid to make a sound? Oh, look at what’s become of us, so far from where we began. No treasure, no empire, no freedom, no land. Where is the warrior poet? He said that he would rise up and speak for me. He said he would return when the final battle rages, and deliver words that would set us free, that would set us free. How can we live in this madness? A toxic wind chokes our völkisch breath. But our people are returning to the ancient words of wisdom, and salvaging the truth that might be left. Oh, look at what we’ve made of it, there is no flag for which we stand. No treasure, no empire, no freedom, no land! Where is the warrior poet? He said that he would rise up and speak for me. He said he would return when the final battle rages, and deliver words that would set us free, that would set us free.


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watching mind

The world is in my eyes, my eyes reflect the mind. The mind is still and silent, observing inner violence. If I am patient it subsides. Everything that rises passes by. Watching mind, watching mind, with balance and calm vision. Watchful eye, watchful eye, destroying indecision. The lens, it gathers light. The light becomes a flame. The flame, it burns the ego, dissolving to ground zero. The higher knowledge, it takes hold. Experiential wisdom then unfolds. Watching mind, watching mind. With balance and calm vision. Watchful eye, watchful eye, destroying indecision. Watching mind, watching mind, watching mind, watching mind. Watchful eye, watching mind.


arcadia

A fragile thread, its tenuous hold on a splendid age with fields of gold. A village green that comes alive with art and song, where the strong can strive, where the folk can thrive. In my solemn heart, Arcadia, your forests set me free. In my purest thought, Arcadia, where I long to be. The harvest time, the baker’s stone, the bread of life, my heart is home. Even though my body’s tied  here in mortal flesh, transcendent sky is where my soul resides. In my solemn heart, Arcadia, your forests set me free. In my purest thought, Arcadia, where I long to be. The children sing, the songs of old, organically, though never told. Ardent memory, the circuits fire, through the clouded veil, through fault and mire, what our hearts desire. In my solemn heart, Arcadia, your forests set me free. In my purest thought, Arcadia, where I long to be. Et In Arcadia Ego, Et In Arcadia Ego, Et In Arcadia Ego, I am in Arcadia!


LAW OF LIFE