The glimpse of Light followed by immediate recognition of someone`s plot aimed against me

Hello there. I`m hungry.

Once you reach the glimpse
there is no place to go
pinned by the great mystery
hiding itself in a metaphors
I keep writing the letters
but no one will deliver them
"Return to the soil, lunatic"
that`s what the postman wants
he made a deal with the drummer
and they all are so happy
while I tear my hair out
for more blank pages
in this round
twisted one
a cycle
rolling all over the place
with no hesitation at all
lost in the sight of the One
I see no more Self in the mirror
`cause it reflects her
you.