The Next Galaxy

How could I ever forget the lucid euphoria beyond the mortal ecstasy of joy. In my highest throne, I penetrated a stellar veil that surpasses the strongest form of man, into the weeping bliss of virgo. I was richer then any comfort feminism could take care in, as the royalty of a million wishes of beauty come true, her endless vanity can lavish up. As I began without a start, I came to supernatural life by a sudden stroke of something unknown that place me there. I was a person, as I am in the instance I'm able to critically think, when I became the Soul-Stuff's origin with the abilities of its Soul-Power at the rooted core of feeling and thought. I was fulfilled as infinite spaces occupied by the everlasting that is limitless. As grand as I was, my starry skepticism, although bright, was enchantingly dim by the approach of this invincible Super-Power. It was like the fear of the father at the stellar top of the most nth authority that child me into my lowest newborn, compared to the ubiquity of its measureless holiness. I was lord of lords compared to the earthbound pupils of the fleshes school, where the zenith of this university honored me the valedictorian over my lowest stage.