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What if in your world of melancholy you knew that the balance of universe is secured

But would that knowledge resonate when you are exposed to life?

What if peace you are crying for is created from the wars that you are living

And the ones you call tyrants are created from your collective focus?

You are not up to speed with your real now, your focus can't avoid your old now

Chaos in your vibrational contradiction, the conditions have your attention

Moment of alignment vouched for precious few, who focus beyond your insanity

But dissatisfied with what is, then more of the same old will be reality

The past will unfold, when close to the whispers from agonizing past …

Welcome …

Did you allow extreme contrast in your world of creation?

As you felt those pestilent winds from the past …

Hell comes …

The chilling echoes of cold menacing pasf — The patterns of scrutinizing mind

A resistant dogmatic path amassed, an indication of where you are, your mind is left behind

What if you resonate with the knowledge that injustice in the universe never has been

Do tragedies strike to help you focus, as dwelling in the past repeats what you've seen?

And what if you ask yourself, how bliss can be assured if hell is not experienced

So you look to the past to avoid conflicts but all of a sudden you manifested a new war

Have you ever asked why your world keep telling you the same old tale?

Blind to what you are looking for, the progress you seek slows down and pale

If there's such thing as moral decline you summoned it to your vortex to define

In order to change conditions, can you focus without attrition?

But, you welcome parochial past

So enter parochial kingdom

Go welcome parochial past

And perish in your parochial kingdom