The Source

The Source

To cherish the individual
In someone
To honor their difference
Their sameness
Not only outwardly
But on an inward plane
Where no one’s lost
No one’s played in vain

The hallucination of oneself
Is what they see
The hallucination of oneself
As we assembles our egos
That hide our true beauty
With what we imagine ourselves to be
Protecting it, fearing it’s loss

Camping out in a sleeping bag
Disregarding the stars
That flower from the source
Of the “Nothing”
So lucky
For the source of the “Everything”
Is very very good

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