Maelstrom of Divinity

True freedom of life is not acquired,
Without risk and or weight.
There is no stencil or mass production,
Being something you alone create.

It is not bought, stolen, borrowed,
Nor given, taught or passed down.
Your task leads through chaos,
A vast stream of forgotten memories.

Its waters teem with the life of thought,
Each conscious and unconscious form.
Common sense a useless toy,
In waters rushing up the mountain.

Dig deeper, ever deeper,
Fear not, you will not drown.
In the maelstrom of divinity,
The only way up is down.

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