There’s
freedom for souls—as disguised in freedoms, a modicum of this freedom. You must
seek for freedoms, the measure of our minds, running through an hourglass; for
hiccups come, to alter said freedoms, to harness perception; but more the
freedoms, as born this life, to succumb to shackles. I beg you fly, the flight
of souls, as breath to lungs; to sight a future, as filled with
luxuries—grounded in self; so build an engine, through the vault of mind, as
slanted this essence; for this is freedom, as unfettered freedoms, this drive
for an outward heart; to study spirit, as a descendant of Breath, as featured
in a heartcave. We know for wonder, to have witnessed proves, where ignorance
possesses a key; this kettle of dreams, a perfect group, which no one
understands. I beg you fly—beyond mother or father, to aid consensus; if not to
perish, our treasured mistakes, aware as captured; to die with ease, to live in
a cul-de-sac, to play pretend. The world is so vast—to have lived in shells, a
stranger to all of one’s victims. I beg you fly, the sighted seas, to pause at
the indie creeks; as one for love, this genuine affection, bred through
honesty; to have lived a friend, to reap such joys, as opposed to lying daily.
It’s not for myth, but rather for soul, a giant in her Kingdom; as shod with silver, as to receive gold, in exchange
for concentration; to see the blue grass, to imbue the blue flame, as a fully
loaded furnace. I beg you live, as to study yoga, as to become the vehicle; by
which are stars, as ever this dream, to glisten as ghosts. I beg you breathe,
as breath of my breath, insync as soaring; for this is ours, this inner calm,
the measure of all freedoms.
