Whether perchance or by the by privy to me,
opaque visions newborn and emerging it seems,
unfold.
Gaining great speed, momentum of thoughts race,
catch them fast, fleeting past at phenomenal pace.
Whence the meaning if any begins to form,
must I from this astral plane be torn?
Long was the tooth and the shadows long too,
still seems like a flash and gone so soon.
Unfold the riddles, such a meddlesome chore,
never solved any of import, nor will there be more.
Or did one surging rush of thought,
pass by me one day while i was without,
Aqua Vitae ,
the water of life?
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