Thrice the universe turned in my sleep cupped his hands-- dipped into me and drank deep. The mushroom that is my brain discovered hallucination- shroom mentor arrived teaching it to spread spores by casting it into gods breath, it was then that he whispered to me: Created within my image; fallen child, set yourself free. Take what is yours, break the vines that imprison you, and remember this: This voice is just an echo; Believe not in me- the almighty- a frail voice of desperate revelations. Believe in you and no other; consider still the utterings of those close at heart and follow your navigation with confidence. Startling it was- this faint memory of life before oxygen uncovered by poets pen.