wanting to feel innocent, needing
to lose suspicion, where it comes with inner security; it doesn’t matter, the
glass full/empty, into turquoise eyes, into trust of souls; living like
tomorrow won’t come, flying like a phoenix, adrift into skies; holding
chandeliers, swinging music, sweet art, as confused by goodness—the mountains
we climb, on piano, a capella, singing like today is evaporating—to adore,
to get the message, such raw meditation—the beauty is in contemplation—the greats
have agreed.
the soul aches the heart is soaring
the message is an overload—disputing a person’s joys; it takes real
displeasure, to kill a soul’s graces, or to recriminate in spirit.
notwithstanding, if the flood has
purpose, if it’s meant to cleanse, without incrimination, such raw earth—purposed
to communicate, instead of disruption, so precious in style, while it seems
aggressive—the eye of the lion, the venom of the cobra, the antiquation of the
gila monster; on for nights, as opposed to villainous, upset a soul has found
certain satisfaction—the measurement of the success, the swinging of the
ceiling, the roof of the weeks; such rapid feelings, such wilderness emotion,
with partway disclosure.
we torture spirit, made privy to
esoteria, the peace you find will be confronted.
does a soul make existence of
invisibility full purpose to disrupt invisibility? some are most genius!
knowing in differences the gait of
the mind to exist in vision the child in the innocent soul. the tragedy of the
beauty—the detail of the miracle—to find oppressive the communication of the
graces. to feel a soul, or infused for stubborn means, or sincere, and why?
why hath the visitation?
what is a soul worth?
a spirit will be charged with
excellence, just to distress excellence, a man must learn not to give his gifts
away—he must learn to speak without saying much, else, life will be disrupted—some
will zero in on exacerbating anything with noticeable properties.
in some cases, a person will be
noticed for eternity, because one doesn’t wish for that soul, such the purpose
of the invisible river.
to fret another. to desire the
comfort of visitation. or to lose sacredness. it must be interrupted. it has to
be this venture; for life is too disenchanting to tolerate happiness—to allow
for such resonance, with needs to evolve such resonance, with purpose to be in
that grain—the fire of the language, the excellence of the overseer, the
radiant endurance of the environment; to feel it fall, one tear, as to push
harder—always pushing further—with no greater purpose than mind, and pushing
harder.
