Till there is no mo ...
Like the rose and its thorns
So is love with its brevity
Brave hearts of hearts drop taps
Resonant round insidious wade
Slashes and meshes
Bleeds pieces of defiled clod
In squarish junctions the world rushes by
Imponderous being draining dry
A writer had no words that day
An unknown singer has passed away
Lacking mobility the naked artist lay
No more muses, no more... Sorrow
On a clear morning
Lilies of the valley waft
The returning sweetness
Tingles joy beside these ears
Vaporizing cure brings comfort within
Lightening the angst of distant isolation
"To see a peer praising Him, i drop my head and i see myself walking further away. Where is the fire and passion that i once had? Hearing a friend speak of a life bursting with laughter and joy, i cringe. I do need to get back. I remember that there is really, no greater joy than to give every intention, expression & energy to Him. I DO NEED TO GET BACK!"
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