[UnbornBuddha]

Tremor heavy because every endeavor empty
I can't even muster a beggar's envy
But, at least the weather splendid
If only temporary joy could be forever endless.
The seasons of continuity are this Terra's emblem
Waxing and waning earthly venom that heralds bedlam.
As far as I’m concerned, peril welcomed
It would contrast nicely the sterile settings
That almost no one ever enters. It’s very seldom.
Purification initiated by my own mental devils
Challenging me until I’m at mentor level
So I can enter Zelda’s transcendental temple.
The sage who endures the storm says staying in the center special
I believe him, but I do sense the menthol as one of his breath’s essentials.
I wonder if the stars themselves were able to light up the darkness elemental
Through reflecting celestial origin, harnessing it as they collect potential
It’s saddening how the Celestine prophecy has descent to Templar’s
Demented rebels using it to predict how the world’s end will settle;
Inferno continental trembles that will manifest our let go.
Their clarity is similar in mental episodes when a seraph’s cleansing.
The dimension of reality is a mere spectral question, a perceptive message
As explained in Interstellar’s ending.
Even the departed spirit of Roger Ebert suggests you rent it.