1.The universal wheel, spinning round and round in the great nothingness.
Upon the gyration of existence all creatures are subjected to birth, death, and rebirth.
Colliding, sliding, and gliding, many worlds orbit the Great Flame.
Baptized with fire, the molten earth is caressed by raging winds as cavernous excretions set free noxious chemicals.
Perpetual contradiction is the effect of perpetual motion, each moment’s particular nexus conflicts with successive moments.
That which is permanently self contradictory in nature cannot be said to truly exist.

2. Existence is the continuance of being.
This would include the manifest, the unmanifest, and the substance that is the essence of both.
This is Being.
Immutable and eternal from the view of it’s manifested effects, insofar as it is the immediate cause of that which is done.
But what if we are to look beyond the misleading appearance of effect?
Is that which is done latent within that which acts?

3. That which is before that which exists, and remains beyond the point of extinction cannot be said to be non-existent, nor can it be limited to the confinements of that which exits.
A more accurate, yet equally false description would be that which is beyond existence.
It is non-non-existence that is, forever before the first age began and forever when the final age completes.

4. The first act is the unacting, the first movement is the unmoving, the first change is the changeless, in spite of the fact that the unacting is not the act, and the unmoving is not the movement, and the changeless is not the change.
That which transcends the unmanifest, that which is Beyond Being, that which is the Causeless cause, cannot be said to be merely that which exists, for any attempt to characterize the absolute through limiting labels is a lie born of ignorance

5. The ostensive appearance of ceaseless manifestation is similar to a university that studies things which are, rather than that which is. The self, in one eon or another, comes to the remembrance of what is.
When all distractions are gone, the Self is what remains.

6. Oh how blissful is the fog of the nescient ones dream?
Confined they lay, in their countless rows, content only with what is in front of them in that miniscule layer of reality they call home.
Eternally they wander in this cloudy frequency, bedazzled by illusory effects, chaining them to the compelling daily ritual of sadness and joy.

7. Oh, I pray for thee my ghostly friend.
Trapped in this fleshly form, bombarded by sinful desires which imprint thou goggles through which you view the confines of your cage.
Cold, bitter, and alone, the sadness overwhelms as the torturing memories surface in your mind.

8. Oh lonesome dark night, you shiver in the embrace of the frigid geist.
Boreal moonlight pierces your might, as the flowing river in your mind reflects the many years of pain and tears.
Take me away you cry from thou vessel of flesh.

9. After all these years you are still the same, hiding from your bitterness and repeating the same mistakes.
Once again you are buried in the white sand, submerged again in the Sea of Lies.
Forever you entomb the thoughts from the forefront of your mind.
Round and round, to and fro, indefinite this motion goes?

what the fuck is this vogan poetry? This shit is more pretentious than an indie band doing eating sushi on the way to a protest.