A sentence toward emancipation– Theres hardly a place to start peeling back the layers of skin that cover this fate like a shell. The process begins with a purpose. A Will. And with courage.. No doubt a courageous spirit lined these walls with such dense matter. The process begins with a picture. Always a picture of that final consumption. That golden yoke. Attainable only thru the breaking of the shell. So, Will. Vision. Courage. The breaking of the shell. A shell of a life surrounds the heart of one’s fate. Layers of temporality melted over the eternal seed.. A shell of time. Freedom lays behind the shell of a moment.
Categories: Bobby Irelan
I’m reading every word baby boy.
Felt every word