The spirit merchants sell
Their Heaven without hell
As if they could tell
Spiritual perfection
By personal direction
Your whole mind a disc
Soul alight, French kissed
Pay your fare and attention
A small price for Ascension
The truth – who we are
Your loves, conflicts and prayers
They care?
Their tight boxed universe not everything
Just a merged everyone
You will turn multitudes
Never again you
Narcissus fell in and became the pond
Out of the many, one
Out of you, none
Still wish this immortal life?
I’ve already lived
I can take your place