This place has been mostly wrong for a while now
But the volume was too low, too subtle
Consciousness has never stopped speaking, urging, coaxing
Truth has been written on the pages of esoterica
Books turned dusty on the shelves of the bookstore
that no longer stands
Preached from the voice box of teachers and mystics
Mostly left on mute
The prophecy has been shouted onto ear closed
Eyes dashing away, reaching for the next stand in fix
Native peoples everywhere silenced
Concealing the magic key
The codes disguised in plain sight
Somehow sleepwalking became the first choice
The common yes
Numbing agents all around
Rather no feel than have to live a fight
Break the spell, claim it all
Beam out, as creatrix intended
Can you hear this now?
Can you feel it?
Do you believe us yet?
What happens when we all decide to turn on the light?
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