A method takes what comes in circles, creates, shakes and samples the spiritual. A method becomes from that simple creeping, without whom which our souls lay stinking, stripped of color but for a pinch of rot. The methods more of what we forgot.
Share Wisdom By Being Inspired.
I lied once, dearest reader though not to my Sweet; I said you had only to look, to taste the wilted life that may only above you step ahead. I may not have used these exact words. Yet I did use some, or something was said, the passion of others that lay in your bed. I wanted at one time to convey to you, the most important few that within is the willingness to share life, show favor, save face and seperate one and other form the hate that breeds within us.
May you know now the first thought. Love. May you know that with each of you is my heart. When above the surface of the pond that near a car and driver found that doorway to the house beyond and browning grasses searched upon the bus driver calls to you the rider out now last stop one more hour in four a penny remember the pound, you taken and hear by these words we have drowned.
May you also know this conclusion. I wanted only to share with you truth.
Dear reader, I am lost. For you the seconds tick by like a whisper, sudden clicks as you sing the refrains of life, or redrain the life given to you by the stars. So reach out your hands, and admit, that you love them. Drink of the water, you who are so very far away. Drink and be meary, and forever we sway.
Categories: Matthew Newton