Pride is the prettiest face of fear.
Much like love of self is not self, reflecting, but being.
In eyes of blind birds is my awareness.
In a world where half of one is equal in value to one of two, but most of each lack understanding. The beach is a territorial growl of calm.
What you feel is not peace on shore, but what I ask is dance, a waltz on ventilated history, where I, and I alone, get chance with the rash of opportunity.
Does a puppet know its free?
A flow of motion unbound, because even bones restrict.
A smile of permanence, the truth of bliss is not always ignorant.
Until made aware of his string, he is stringless, but made aware of his string, he is strung.
O Puppet, do you not see the gift given unto you?
Poor puppet, stuck now in your mentality.
If only you knew understanding.
Love is joy, and Love is acceptance.
Accept joy. Its rare strangle.
Much like love of self is not self, reflecting, but being.
In eyes of blind birds is my awareness.
In a world where half of one is equal in value to one of two, but most of each lack understanding. The beach is a territorial growl of calm.
What you feel is not peace on shore, but what I ask is dance, a waltz on ventilated history, where I, and I alone, get chance with the rash of opportunity.
Does a puppet know its free?
A flow of motion unbound, because even bones restrict.
A smile of permanence, the truth of bliss is not always ignorant.
Until made aware of his string, he is stringless, but made aware of his string, he is strung.
O Puppet, do you not see the gift given unto you?
Poor puppet, stuck now in your mentality.
If only you knew understanding.
Love is joy, and Love is acceptance.
Accept joy. Its rare strangle.
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