Where will we two burn immortal in the Age of Aquarius?
For whichever sun will cast its manifold shadows upon two lustrous hearts entwined, our bond will force unique lotus-lattices, snow white in motive.
But grows a doubt in the hearts of gods.
Virginal gray maidens take fair warning and converge upon such this a twisted bond, unknotting fiery passions in the love-lakes of our souls.
The bond was never forged.
Now cast and fated to wane solitary, my vessels succumb to some form of higher meaning. I find—I think, dillusion in the very illusion of unity.
If one is all then what is any when one has departed?
But as a metaphysically slanted monologue develops in the dark rooms of my mind, a stranger knocks.
It is time to sleep.
But what dreams may come?
