What an untouched phase of life I've discovered.
So far away from the carelessness of everything in this life,
And the impurity of our Earth is just a memory, left behind,
Like an unavailing section in the mind,
Like a place in the world that nobody can see,
Or a golden temple detaining me,
As I look out past the light, feeling what I've dreamt was real,
Witnessing how the partiality and the pitiful demise of life is nothing close to how I verily feel,
As my harrowed past begins to heal,
All the thoughts begin to seal.
And another world I can reveal.
Inside this sight, no darkened night,
Everything's in glowing light.
And the scenery to behold is like a story once told from the mind of an artist...
Where the wind can blow amidst the snow,
Where the past is just the past,
And only the dreams are meant to last.
The hungry are now part of a despicably unfazed realm,
The thoughts of hate vanquished enough to overwhelm,
Yet everything in this world can be present, and far away,
Aside from the impossible sovereignty,
Everything is perfectly as it seems.
My hooks of pain, a smoking gun,
As one by one they come undone.
The presence as impeccable, as... ravishing as the sound,
Like a blind man's freedom to look around,
But all is concealed in this little fantasy of a world
Because everything is just an imitation of an absent scene,
But nothing will ever be the same after I've witnessed what I've seen.
Because an untouched phase of life I have discovered.