Reflections of the Garzalon Encounter

A mirror reflects the smoke within my eyes as vapors expire in a sigh fogging my view of shadowed angels who smile secrets fly by to delay altered scenes that ramble untrue. They often appear when cryptic dreams slip in. Clouds consume motives that elude these bare truths so spirits transport light illusions within a promised vision of desire: fountain of youth. A mother’s comfort lies beyond my minds reach where future layers of time measure my thoughts of concepts warping through doorways I must breach to capture mortal fate of which I need naught. Come wander lasting life, slip through dimensions that only titans are able to fulfill. The mother awaits your ships’ flesh extensions: be sure your wasteful motion is very still. This venture descends all hope of a life form, so welcome chaos and bliss coupled as one. To couple ending choice to decide which norm: Of present, future, or between not undone. All ancients foregone I abide my missions that any outcome wakes alter time I choose. Bare reproach allowed with added transition with freedom willing to render and confuse. I decide outcomes for altered times of life, so bestowed before me: evidence of fact. Slice finished requests with opinions sharp knife for mortal judgment will become the last act. The Garzalon is merely a timeless scale of equal present and ancient ghosts departed who carry a humans reflections so frail: The balance of eternity so charted. This display repeated as my existence flows outward aging unsure when next we join. The phantom vessel steals me across distance and present anew once more as we rejoin. I decide therefore I will continue on or a single outcome may fulfill my death. A request by Garzalon is called upon: Now, this option stated issues my last breath.

Randy Rowe Copyright: 2010, 2012

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