The Red Fox (poem)

A red fox dwells in silver twilight, on the ridge of a hill.
A beacon of trust, with a threat of blood-spill.
Her divinely pure thought, beacons you follow;
And leads you to lands, of infinite hollow.
A place where your demons, thoughts, and creations,
Dwell and live only, because you have made them.
Black and red vibrations.
You follow the fox.
A city of gargoyles guard a deep grave; In which you have hidden,
The deepest thoughts in your brain.
Energy that is trapped,
Conjures itself into many forms,
As it constantly twists and changes;
No safe haven.
Memories floating in space;
Clairvoyant castles of expression
And the red rivers of past life regression.
You see this and more, as you follow the fox.
Into a wasteland of Colourful radiation.
A conglomerate of twisted imagination.
A white wisp of sanity envelops you; moves you through
This twisted dimension as a pulse.
Seeking serenity as this archaic and fanciful world spirals into volatile patterns.
As the scenes play out eternity.
Shadows of a memory enact battles,
Humans kill each other over slight differences.
Tragedy occurs as men stab each other with deceit.
Civilizations rise and fall.
A pale and fragile girl locks herself in a closet.
Water bleeds through her eyes; blood through her wrists.
It is the girls blatant truth that she is unnoticed by god; yet she is a fractal position of all that is.
Such scenes play out in perpetual motion without end.
The white wisp carries you through this carnival of despair.
A witness to the horrors of mankind.
Torture first by pain, Then fear of death…
And something far worse…
Something unexplainable,
The conditioning of the human mind and total inoculation of irrational fear.
The complete control of thought, of emotion.
The grief that comes from hopelessness as weaker societies or members of such are dominated and manipulated by elite monsters with ill intent.
Underground chambers and sexual arousal from carnage.
The sacrifice of pure spirits to attain power.
Dark magic spreads a thick veil of illusion over man kinds eyes.
News stations report unconscious stories so mundane and neglectful to truth
That it creates a false picture of humanities content to distract from reality.

And then a change happens.
A torus bubble expands and effects everything as a ripple.
Starseeds are born with majestic eyes.
Love is made.
Candles lit in times of pure blackness. Stories told,
Feelings felt.
Music danced to.
Dreams made possible.
Comfort aloud to exist.
Hope is kept alive. For the sacred fire of the spirit of humanity has been relit
As the goddess of beauty tends to the hearth.
The ghosts that dance are now a part of the spiraling white vortex that consists of all present
Energy.
They themselves now beings of light,
For darkness cannot exist where Akash is present.
This is the omnipresent state of the universe…constantly changing….too much for the human mind,
So you can only focus on details.
The fox reappears as a purple and yellow hummingbird that buzzes around you,
Begging for attention.
…And something pulls you along with it into the purple vortex that appears in alignment with its presence.
You fall into its rays into a parallel reality and are sucked through space and time.
You appear in a bed.
For a fragment of a moment, you don’t remember where you are or how you got there.
Only a red fox standing audaciously on the edge of a dark hill in a stream of liquid silver moonlight…
A communication between eyes….
And then nothing.
Soon the picture of the fox even fades.