Ahh, that moment of eclat when ma'at meets mastery in thought and deed.
When The Paraclete envelopes one, and thus for none other one must need.
When digit and sinew orchestrate movement among the concepts in one's psyche.
Weaving a tapestry, yet unseen, a fabric for one who might live incessantly lee.
When verdant and vagal, somnolence wafts in the midst of one's destiny.
A sweet slumber, a summer eve's dream, and a bounty of blessings for many.
- Schizophrenic Unknown
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