Time has little meaning when your exiled from reality. The incense of aspiration burns in the liquid night of the unexplored imagination. To emerge from the lap waters amidst the crisp air of winter and feel the sensation of the atmospheric gods.
Ancient deities are fresh in my mind. The sacred lore of ultimate truth and the eternal quest for justice is shrouded in a chaotic cocktail of confusion and deception. My minds ascent into the primordial arts and words of the ancients captivate my senses and sooths my soul in ways no one else is able too.
Izzy Schurr, aka, Mark Schurr
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