The Giza Power Plant

Hardened... like when the fresh air burns the lungs And spiraling harvests coagulate the mind that's rotting away Thoughts within soil, from within the forms as such Behind Death's realms of Earth-bound souls Forever (caught) in a past that never happened Astral trepanation yields transcendental ecstasies And woes of frigid distance no longer feel So far - but within reason, though out of reach Through the doors we each must travel - different markings eirher side Without knowing the different colors of each beast's aura Predisposed inertias propagate alien histories As timelines weave between them while you sleep