Psychic labyrinths are intricate routes
They disorient those who travel the horizons of the illusion
You will see that they are the source of suffering
Tortuous paths thrown into the darkness
Constant spaces of anguish and regret
Built with the bitter walls of pain
You´ll see who you are, suffering spirit
You´ll see 
If the temple is sacred
You´ll see 
if it contains forbidden desires 
You´ll see 
if it holds guarded pleasures
And every insistence of thought
In the future or in the past
The mental body will reproduce
Diverse voices that transmit snares 
Diverse steps and psychic lack of control
That induce slaves to selfishness
Decipher them or live them
Prisons of the Soul
Artificial “paradises”
And in attachment
In attachment to the mirrors of the time
Desires become abyssal
The reflection of oneself
A torment in the present moment
Loaded with emotional reactions
Filled with distorted thoughts
Memories, distortions and beliefs of false identity
Limited ideas that dominate the human being
The alienated human being
In the spotlight of faddish desires
Fleeing from the truth
The fear translates into attraction
In the emission of the low frequency
Range
Vibration
Your desired reality
Decadent
That marches
That recreates new sources
Of fear
And it comes
From the inside out
And not
From the outside in
From the mind
Illusion
That suddenly remains
Null
Mute
Blind
Deaf
Erased
Slow
Without reason
Accumulated
Creating lost waves
Of senses without senses
Corrupted thoughts
In the orbit of madness
Fascination, lysergia
In sequences of euphoria
Signals are emitted
Confusing the psyche with capital disorder
The Hell
Endless voices and eternal echoes of sin
That sustains involution
Stimulates your shadow
The food for the Ego?
And what would be the gateway to progress if not the force of Love?
The energy is complex
The Universe is fractal
You deny intuition
And ignore the mysteries of the life 
And there is no life without Love 
And without Love
You can’t feed the middle path
The path between peace and the tones of desire
A manifesto of a mystical state
Without Love
Everything is gray, dark, dreary 
The Love is the Divine Spark
Expressive, creative
Without love
The mind reacts to emotions by creating fantasies
Travels a path of no return
Raises the fire of sick passion
A dead end
The spirit absorbs energies
There’s no escape from the physical world
Transcend
The wise are those who transmute
The storm into calmness
In the hall of Consciousness
The Universe in miniature.

Marcelo Moreira