My salvation

To be joined and possessed
neither is a calling
set it up but don’t go too far

Lies are tragic in essence
could not believe the eyes
could not revert my gaze

Simply to offer the passing to submit
flail like a wind from the south
neither is likely to succeed

Up there and beyond
it goes through the mud
above it rests easily

Seasons are coming hasty
change from distant corners
passess into the thought

I am that which endures
though ages comes and goes
i await the transmission

Neither to assail or discover
in random phenomenon
is found a secret message

Though you are unnoticed
don’t opt out for salvation
nothing can enter here

In nothingness it comes between
all else colored by the experience
then stumbling upon it

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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