Just as a million sheep will be dispersed by one lion's roar, so does the spear of truth pierce through the illusory and the unjust. The humble mystic studies the delicate truths of life, no matter how paradoxical, challenging or painful. He accepts the lessons of living - as raw as they are given. Only to him may the gates be opened, unlocked by suffering and deliberation - until even that suffering becomes a tool or symbol through which divinity makes its way into his everyday, through which knowledge and the wisdom of ages are passed down unto him, an unspoken language or faraway tongue that need not be put into words. Truth does not need a language, it is divinity itself, and exists without need for argument or excuse. Language holds no function in the realm of truth. It is only the imperfect ramblings of our human interpretations that call for constant advocating and explanation. He imagines the world upon its creation, within the cosmic, primordial womb of being itself - in the cautious stages of its infancy, and he grasps the inevitable destiny of all things, and himself among them, and, thusly - his union with the All is achieved. He bows his head in humble virtue and servitude to that dream then, the inescapability of the passing of that very truth of being - and the conglomeration of all meaning and purpose into one inevitable outcome - the destiny of all things that must come to pass. In his own ashes - he stands victorious. And every great secret ingrained in the truth of his being, these coated in pain and old memories, and hardship, and adversity, and all the things that make him sick and ill-disposed are made whole by meaning again. He is the tree of life, the unlikely bearer of its truth. And he, too, is the interpreter of its grand destiny. The language. The symbol, etched upon this world by its most-ancient Creator. And his blood is the ink through which life itself paints upon the canvas of time. He is the gift granted to this world, and the world - the gift granted to him. If he could only dream his dreams into being, and dare make of himself what he would make of this world. He, too, could become One and ascend alongside it beyond this our veil of separation, the firmament - into all-encompassing quantum union, through which only the spear of truth might pierce. So make strong your old dreams, brothers and sisters, lest our world lose heart. Make strong your dreams and be purified by the cleansing fires of truth. ![[IMG_3446.jpeg]] I give to you the Spear of Truth. Grant it to your astral body. So that you may walk on starlit paths - always. Your past sharpens the present. Your present shapes that which is to come. Visualise your destiny. And then become worthy of it. Do you understand?