Journey (The First)

I walk through the valley of my ravels.
Mountains great and wondrous in purple haze,
their knitting-needle spires shadow my back.
While the glacier ahead hints at its existence
a crashing waterfall of thundering raindrops
raindrops of fatalling burning mist in the mid-day night.

I walk through the valley of my travels.
At my left walks a cloaked figure, concealing all
his face of skull, his gait of travesty,
his soul of ice,
and the ground beneath him melts as
I slowly freeze.

I walked through the valley of my travels.
At my right walks a naked man, baring all
singing to the blue sky and white clouds
raindrops fall into his gaping maw
sparkling teeth become tunundrums of joy
giving birth to the mirth from which he sprang.

I fight in the valley of my travels.
On my back is a mirror.
On that mirror is my back, cracking to the dual-lashings
the choice must be mine.

I mope through the valley of my travels.
At my front flies reality 
the wasp with its melody weaving words to the weary traveler
poisoning the listener without ears.

I become the valley of my travels.
In my mind rests the earth.
My muscles strain to contract,
force the puny existence into nothingness,
knowing all that matters 
nothing exists forever in the shadows.

I walk in the valley of my mind.
The midnight sun at my back,
now I face my fantasies.
Cracked is the mirror…
singer is crying,
cloak unveiled absorbs my nothingness
while the wasp squirts its poison at the burning ice
earth in my hand slowly
falters
to 
dust.

From my dust becomes water escaping from my hand.
Upward it flows until it joins with the waterfall,
higher the deluge grows until it drowns with a fiery passion
the valley I walked.

I flow on the water of my example.
At my left drowns a dead man with pearls for eyes
no tears will ever fall from his dry eyes
as snakes escape from his mouth in wispy fits
circling the man's arms and pulling him upward
as the drowning man lives again
but his eyes -
his eyes glow with the glitter of pearls.

I drift on the water of my blood.
On my right drifts a shadow
full of my empty nothingness
groaning as the ticklish waters flow through him
changing  course to quiet the distortion of conscious
only to revert to originality ascertaining
the wrongreality of the majority of man which is shadow.
the shadow becoms translucent as the waters,
the flowing raindrops,
color his body.

I flow on the waters of my troubles.
At my back swims a dolphin feasting on the wasp.
In thanks for the life giving feast, the dolphin tells
of my passing 
purple spires which rend the eyes
forcing the wanderer into darkness from which they never appear
to those of the valley.
The blind scream their stories to the dolphin,
who casually swims by and feasts upon their refuse
my thoughts - full of excrement
as the beast continues to babble about insignificance 
and time.

I meander on the water flowing my course.
Ahead is a mirror with ripples
ripples show my true visage
my outline of white shadow ever visible
enlightening the pale darkness while the water before me
boils under the fiery passion of my 
decision.

I'm submerged in my water.
In my hand rests the marble sphere of fluid
straining to stay
afloat above the abstact absence
beneath my funneling fingers.

I rise above the waters of my creation.
The purple mountains no longer exist
as I know of what lies beyond.
My white aura becomes the mirror that reads the sky
and I reap the jewels from one
and I ignore the other
and the dolphin behind drowns in my air
he'll speak soft words of sorrow no more
and that marble in my hand
freezes and boils
as it sands flow like time
down
the 
drain.

In my hand, where once the dust became water, a void exists
spreading out from my impotence
evaporating all beneath until it joins with that above
it destroys with an earthly passion
that river I traveled.

I flow in the air of my self.
At my left falls a blind man
I reach out and he touches my graps.
His touch is of warm compassion
his smile is of friendship
his soul is of hope
and he walks with me.
The air around him sparks as my hand begins to flame.

I move in the air of my essence.
There drifts the shell of a blank man
letting the winds of my plane shape him into higher reality
solid yet malleable,
dark and silent and dead and light and loud and alive
ready for the acceptance.

I wander in the air of my feeling.
Behind there occurs a life listless in the
afternoon dew falling to nowhere from nowhere waiting for eternity
to rapture with her intrepid force
while I slowly turn my head.
I fear the lancing pain
of lost longing of loving.
I grit my teethh and fight the fear
and my sneer turns to hope
as I turn to meet her,
knowing at last the final battle is mine
turning once again with her in my embrace.

I fly on the air of my happiness.
Beyond her lies the only ember,
the marking of the passage which leads 
to the ultimate pinnacle of my journey
and my hand aflame ignites she in front
and fallen angels sing
as devilish gleems fall into the lair of my choice.

I walk on the air of my creation.
I grant love to he on my left
I grant beginning to he on my right
I laugh at false trails of the past
I ready she in front
and my hand ignites the gaseous waste
which quickly combines with that around and 
ever so quickly
cancels
all 
creations.

My hand - once a holder of air
which spread from water
which came out of earth - now joins mine other.
The two arise flaming
And with my fiery clap all around is consumed within my passion
only left, right and front exist
as I arise in my glory.

I triumph in the fire of my heartbeats.
At my left the man grabs my hand
I pull him into my body
And I absorb myself
and his beats become one with mine;
my muscles clinch with the burning power.

I scream victory in the fire of my mind.
At my right the blank slate flings himself
into my burning eyes
searing his own bodice forever
I absorb myself
and his waves become one with mine;
my mouth screams of its full fiery persona.

I magnify the fire of my ultimate world.
I combust with her at my front
as my muscles become flames
and I radiate my power throughout the era of passion
Like the awakening giant I finally
expand to my full force, freeing the final fatal crimson tide
which must quench this red and blue and yellow force.

I delight in the fire of the circle.
My hand sweltering from the heat
now bathes the fire with cooling sweat
as I fling my dewy drops into the fray
and the fire slowly, slowly, slowly
dies 
to 
embers.

And in my hand which is the catalyst for all that has ocurred,
the dust to water,
the water to void,
the void to fire,
the fire to ashes,
now there is only warm skin.
The hand of she from my dreams.

I walk in the valley of my travels.
I am awake now, and she is at my side.
And I still hear the waterfall,
but now it reminds me of life, not death.
And together we follow a riverbed.
It leads to a lonely space,
like that in which I became
one with the endless circle
of travelling eternity, this travelling loop of life.
And now I'm free of that interminable line.
As we reached the forest
and found our tree,
I turned to her with a smile in my eyes
"I do believe in true love."

We burned our airy waterbed into the earth.