The narrow path of self-knowledge

The narrow path of self-knowledge

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Over five decades I’ve tasted

all sorts of poison and wasn’t

satiated by hemlock as Socrates

My comeuppuence manifested

I felt my last hour yet I shall die not

I wasn’t ready to trode the greenery

of the emerald fields of beyond

the gates of Time opened I saw blank. The Blank I painted the new canvas freshly made of bleeched linen

I prayed my heart becomes hard and unpenetreable as Tungsten to endure

all potency of this wordly Hell’s heat

as for the second half I revealed thus

“the Gates of Mystery are opened by Death!”

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