Good God. Help Thy Followers.
... How life is so irregular? When one day we Feel something so amazingly true; then the day next it is as if the feeling had withered to die. One short motion as if a glance to the side - all present is past, and the past can never tell lies. But how can this past - strong, forced, loathed, forgotten - still hold chains to everything in motion? Where will we be in ten to twenty years. Dead maybe; forgotten, loved, rich, poor? Whatever outcome may await, I strongly encourage the path that needs not hang the bait.
This all seems to crude. My eyes have changed to see what awaits... but am I just as deceived as I was in the past?
Perhaps the deception, with a open eye and perception, is all what awaits up the path.
believe not in the prize at the end of the path, for the prize are the scars from your past. You made it - at last.
This all seems to crude. My eyes have changed to see what awaits... but am I just as deceived as I was in the past?
Perhaps the deception, with a open eye and perception, is all what awaits up the path.
believe not in the prize at the end of the path, for the prize are the scars from your past. You made it - at last.