Instinctively follow the intertwined paths through the darkness,
With no recollection of my arrival.
Fading images of the past are lost into a dismal veil,
Masking my thoughts my thoughts with images of wretched demigods.
Soot rains, and volcanic ash falls down from the heavens,
Serving as the back-drop for the prophet, who speaks in distorted tongues.
I hear [bad word] from my sub being, a voice unstopped by physical boundaries.
Inhuman frequencies, oscillating. causing the earth to quake and split tremors.
The ground around me [bad word] away into a blackened ocean.
Now speaking to me. "drink from the water," a voice beckoning,
Insisting that it contains the key. the yopo tree holds great power.
It is only there you can escape this existence.
Captivated by the creatures beauty, diminishing the fear of death.
How do I escape the darkness that has over thrown me?
"you must drink from the water to find the forest of illusion"
I throw myself from the cliff toward the dark water.
Falling through the clouds that explode with electric bolts.
The wind screams with the voices of the dead.
I must not be one with them. driven on only by images of the fabrication.
I enter the foam breaking into a new world. filling my lungs and stomach.
The spirits aura carries me through the portal. emerging reborn into darkness.
Into a realm reminiscent of my home world. a paradoxical plane of existence.
Where physical limitation is exceeded by your mental awareness.
I am washed to a blackened shore, a beach of charred remains.
The gore leads deep into the forest. illuminated with evil light.
I'm drawn to the bright glow. trees envious at the sight of life.
Whispering to one another. they are living entities in this world.
Their [bad word] decorated with intestines. leading to my destination.
I reach the plateau. a mound of severed limbs stands before me.
Within it the great tree grows.
Covered in wavy fungus with giant blue and gold flakes.
I devour the over-sized shrooms.
mirror image of myself forms from thick emerald vapor.
Venting from the bark. the discarnate form kneels before me.
I [bad word] bound by roots that grow rapidly from the soil.
The humanoid whispers through telepathy, [bad word] "
As if a cue to rip my body from its ligaments.
I am reverted to a infant of an earthly womb.
Fastened to this plane