The Seat of the Soul

 
 The Seat of the Soul

Across the oceans, through the mist,
The ancient codes do still persist.
Sumerian gods with fruit in hand,
A sacred sign across the land.

On Pharaoh's staff, the carving shows
Where the seed of spirit grows.
Upon the rod of Dionysus,
A hidden truth meant to guide us.

From Shiva’s hair to Maya’s stone,
The serpent wisdom remains known.
And in the heart of Vatican,
The bronze colossal stands for man.

One single shape, one silent speech,
The highest realm the soul can reach.
The Pineal Gland, the crystal key,
To see the things we cannot see.

The Seat of Soul, the Third Eye blind,
The bridge connecting space and mind.
The Field of Neters, source of light,
To navigate the astral night.

A tiny cone to break the shell,
And drink from the eternal well.
Awake the God within the brain,
And break the physical domain.

But now the modern shadow falls
To lock the spirit in these walls.
The blue light burn, the toxin rain,
To calcify the inner brain.

Distraction screens, the EMF,
To choke the magic unto death.
They numb the sense, they close the gate,
To disconnect your higher state.

So open the gate! Dissolve the screen!
Remember what the ancients mean.
Sumer... Egypt... The Vatican square...
The key is hidden everywhere.