Do not sleep under the cypress trees,
Because there is no sleep in the world.
The body is the shadow of garments
That hide your real self.
Come the night, which is death,
And the shadow ends without being.
Screams in the night just play,
Like you unintentionally.
But at the Inn of Wonder
Angels take up your covers.
Following without the cover on the shoulder,
Just the remaining peaces covering you.
So Archangels in the road
undress you and leave you naked.
You do not have clothes, you have nothing:
You only have your body, that is you.
Finally, in the deep cave,
All Gods undress you more.
Your body ceases, an just external soul stays,
And you see that are your equals.
The shadow of your clothes
Luckily, is far gone.
You're not dead, among cypresses.
Neophyte, there is no death.
“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law” - Aleister Crowley.
Listening to Pink Floyd - "Good bye Blue Sky"
