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....dogmatic in its perception; much like the liberation of Venezuela set to begin in the early days after Chavez' death, it is a simple manifesto of hate, anguish and Chardonnay Wine; freshly picked grapes from the eastern European country of Moldova, a little rock in the sands between Romania and the Ukraine. I saw rich men sailing across the sea, white coat, black tie and tails. Sleek in their appearance, somber in their joyous occasion having dumped a woman's body over the ocean cove. I dug one of her bones this morning, and now I seem them again this afternoon and in the evening. I can tell a lonely tale of lust, adventure, and speed. The letters grow fast in my mind and then I don't know what to do with them. Written language speaks but a word, a syllable, a sentence. Talkative language is the language of love, crime and compassion. Solitaire is a family of one; aptitude, inclination and uncertain tendencies. Human trickery, characteristics, subtle silent and aggregate stones shown up above; diamond earrings, jewel necklaces and a value worth every man's weight in gold. Debauchery, treachery and stumbling brilliance brings with it a nightmarish realm.
If you created it, you can destroy it; if I held it, I can throw it away until one day he will find me again to thank me for showing him the light. Theology is part of the mind, part the body, part of the soul, part imagination and part blindness, part energy and will; the time to do right, the time to make love, the time to kill and when necessary to do so.
No man is an island and no one has a choice.
If you created it, you can destroy it; if I held it, I can throw it away until one day he will find me again to thank me for showing him the light. Theology is part of the mind, part the body, part of the soul, part imagination and part blindness, part energy and will; the time to do right, the time to make love, the time to kill and when necessary to do so.
No man is an island and no one has a choice.