Answers Undefined

23 12 2012

Heaven help me, I think I see the light of every day. So I say.
Building daily, sinking while I go above my way. Night and day.
Timeless are we, every moment past belongs to grace. Another place.
Vine less bounty, fruits of every tree that I had missed. Blow a kiss.

Temples of my sanctity, avowing what I cannot understand. Not the plan.
Examples of my liberty, plowing all those furrows in the sand. Just a man.
Blessings of the endless tree, fruit of all divinity, apples from the garden, of my soul.
Testing my virginity, the root of all iniquity, dapples with my brush – a palette bold.
That I know.

Projecting all the deities, allowing all the worth of what they are. Old faith ajar.
Balancing my frailties, avowing grace and sending them afar. Like shooting stars.
I try to make them less each day, giving less unto that grace,
making every moment, count for more.
I cry if I have lost my way, the grace I feel does convey, the tears of mortal foment.
Never more.

Freedom calls me, melding from the back drop of my life.
Vision stalls me, standing on a sharp and edgeless knife.
Cannot buy the things I want, or leave them when I find them in the rough.
Endless waking, speaks to me of how I have enough. Endless stuff.

Legend riding blissfully, I won’t deny the places I have been.
Looking at them differently, my vantage point will suffer not my sin.

I begin.

Living, breathing, diamonds dull and gold has turned to rust.
In this feeling, senses reeling, feeling there is nothing, that I Must.
A fool, I rush in heedlessly, loving while defining not the glow.  It is so.
Wisdom in a space above, within, without, and needing not the know.   As I let go.

Simple as the rising sun, beating of the heart as one, contemplating nothing, an abyss.
Empathy is never done, fleeting is the art it sung, venerating nothing, that I missed.
Apathy will fall, sending out a call, grasping at the life blood of it’s vein.
In the light it fades, vainly has it made, images of nothing that remain. Rearrange.

Now as thoughts become aware, gazing in a sightless stare, standing at the gates of all I am.
just a man
Gates don’t bind me, though they find me, kneeling on the lamplight of the span.
Spinning reeling, finally feeling, consciousness accepts me as I am.
just a man.
Standing, kneeling, irony bleeding, selfless idols fall, and still they stand. while I am.
just a man

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