changes
i read my kinds words and i hear their heart, i feel the keen-ness, i reach out to touch their life and world but again what my hand approaches and
passes through is just mist. only mist, fogs of a dream, vapors of a
memory i can no longer claim to be mine for the confusion and etches that
time weilds does truly conquor all. all i've known is past remains in the past, i would today savor the telling of what that is in my past belaying the truth to my kind, the truth as i know it would be written
for the fear it would bring to those not my kind. the words spoken undistorted
by those unkind who twist and change and contort with vehemance all that
is my kind. would that i could wrest past the fogged mist and reach into
the real, shake the real and hold it there in the light until the unkind
faint and fall bleeding into the telling of the truth. but therin resides the wholeness that the unkind known by me to be false. the false, the whole
false and nothing but the false. truth is not a dreamed imagination, truth is truth and the telling takes down the shields of the unkind.
those unkind know they are unkind but care not of the falsehood care not of the tramplings the acts and words render to those that would say
truth. can it be that the unkind say the untruth such untold numbers of times that they believe their darkened manipulations of those unawre of
unkind motives? it must be so that unkind is made majestic by the realms of evilness basking false glow of fires begot from hell. there is a light there is a truth there is more to hear you who are my kind, but it
will be only your asking that changes the misted vapor fog to hearing the
truths. truth is so easily avoided truth is feared for the shattering of the worlds reality as shown by those unkind to those who in truth
can still yet be my kind. truth changes from person to person, truths
end in time. Natural law survives all deaths,all life,all time.
love is a law.
passes through is just mist. only mist, fogs of a dream, vapors of a
memory i can no longer claim to be mine for the confusion and etches that
time weilds does truly conquor all. all i've known is past remains in the past, i would today savor the telling of what that is in my past belaying the truth to my kind, the truth as i know it would be written
for the fear it would bring to those not my kind. the words spoken undistorted
by those unkind who twist and change and contort with vehemance all that
is my kind. would that i could wrest past the fogged mist and reach into
the real, shake the real and hold it there in the light until the unkind
faint and fall bleeding into the telling of the truth. but therin resides the wholeness that the unkind known by me to be false. the false, the whole
false and nothing but the false. truth is not a dreamed imagination, truth is truth and the telling takes down the shields of the unkind.
those unkind know they are unkind but care not of the falsehood care not of the tramplings the acts and words render to those that would say
truth. can it be that the unkind say the untruth such untold numbers of times that they believe their darkened manipulations of those unawre of
unkind motives? it must be so that unkind is made majestic by the realms of evilness basking false glow of fires begot from hell. there is a light there is a truth there is more to hear you who are my kind, but it
will be only your asking that changes the misted vapor fog to hearing the
truths. truth is so easily avoided truth is feared for the shattering of the worlds reality as shown by those unkind to those who in truth
can still yet be my kind. truth changes from person to person, truths
end in time. Natural law survives all deaths,all life,all time.
love is a law.