sing. and when you bless
me with your voice, i
remember such fair suns
setting over the horizon
on my way to the granite.
a monument, in the distance,
a testament to the time
spent here.
aggrivate me no more,
for i refuse to ever
blind myself to your
tell-tale eyes. only
when i step inside
does my shadow fail
and so in warmth i do
prevail.
i've found understanding
in forgiving and in
forgiving i've found
the very heart of my
abscent sense. a relic
of such history that
memory dare never
forget.
though abstract, my drive
is without thought. and
since my push relies
on faith found not here,
my existence is a will to
the understanding of that
which exerts its force from the
inside.
dare not tempt me with the
outside nature and paradoxical
threats of passive disuassion.
inspiration is merely an orgasm
of intense aspiration to become
greater than that which can be
felt, that which can
be seen.
faith in her has found
faith in me and never
again shall i persuade
myself: those who should
be at my feet are truly
greater in scope than
my faith could ever
make me.
i exist not because you
beg of me, but because
your will to understanding
simply believes in something
that the future could bring to
me. only i must nuture my
presence before i make any
action a manifest other than
subtlety.
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