|what is this? like somber so sweet our eyes met ,
met and passed and met again,
clowed rays of a beautiful daze zombrous dawns the heavy gloy.
And endlessly flows,
so sold stowed the bitter cold lice,
lashed crisom flashed red breath beast bellow.
thrice rived , wailed and squalled.
white stress ridden tears,
fear sears the loyalty between royalty.
Lies and spies, prying eyes,
let it die and let it die.
poor fool so cruel but not once,
not once did you understand.
The last stand.
So beat your fist against the ground and bellow.
Bellow once more.
Call me rage.
I bear no sweet fruit, I am the tree that gifts thorns. Do not traverse my brantches, do not lay your hand on my bark.
Primates are a slave to their impulses. Are you a homosapien or just another monkey?
I wish you only knew.
People are born able. People are born immortal with no beggining and no end. Its only the lamiations of the spirit that leads us to beleive otherwise. As we are each born of the divine spark, we are each divine in our own right. To beleive other wise is not just a sin against our selves but a sin against the spark within us. It is our duty as human beings to kindle this spark in not just out selves but all of humanity.
Emotions are like the colors within light, there is no evil emotion only selfish emotions. Whats bad for the group is ultamatly bad for you. If a person cant stick with the cod they become lost.No person is an island, no person should be an island because in reality this divine spark is what unites us all. To curse another is to curse your self, to chastise another is to chastise the self.
The tree that bears no fruit will die-
I am both the joy and suffering in your heart-
We never die, we only become stronger-
I am the voice of your hunger and pain, I am the voice of calling you home-
the most sacred song I know
We have no beginning and no end (we are a circle)-
I worship the skyla, the one who is quick to anger. The brave and noble lady of darkness. The tourch bearer, the mother. The one that guids you into this world and the one that leads you home when you die. Heacate mighty tourch bearer, I need no other. Let the wounds we inflict together be grieves, let the people we heal together know not lamnations of the flesh nor spirit ever again . Let the people we lead together find bravery in the darkest night. I fear neither Eberus nor thantos I no longer fear dreams nor sleep. If you can walk with only tourch in hand and the hound at your side, so can I. The wicked, the half hearted, the meek have no place by my side. When the shadows fall I will take my leave.
Rebirth is a bloody thing, Thank you for making it easy.
Death is a noble thing. Honored are the fallen.