what west and whirling winds
of the tale in this frill fits it all
Shire a shrine to shy away from
it all but all ways facing Thor
True to heart for like of conscience we fend for the worth
where Divinity follows the awake and it all
Prince Innanr show them the truths and lead them out of condemnation so they find their stars in all of Nebadon.

Magicians say that there is a third energy created by the connection of two souls
Tell me then with the high rate of lust, where does this energy go?
As ******-seman I sour seed, tell me where does it go when it is freed?
Who collects all the third energies?
I want to know what the souvenirs are of my wet dreams
I wish to know where these drips flow
I wish to know who those people in my wet dreams are
I want to know Where we go when we lose ourselves in orgasma
Are people in our wet dreams a cast for a theatre screened in higher dimensions


Are our specimens being collected to genetically engineer other beings?
Where do we go when we ******?
What do we see as we shut our eyes?
Who collects the ***** and vaginal fluids knotted in condoms?
Who receives all these used condoms?
Are we still sacrificing gods of the old?
Are they out there those who steal souls?
Are they still out there those who steal souls of unborn babies resulting miscarriage?


Where is the hub where all these energies are administered?
I want to know where to go when we get lost in the ecstacy of ***
Is it a track to keep us imprisoned, another way to keep us low?
Tell me do we sell our souls every time we are not having ***?  Should we see each other through the third eye first?
Should we be of the same frequency band or blood type?
Should we marry first, but what is marriage?
Is it the ******* through a court or the ******* of mind-body-soul-heart through love?
Where are going, should we start asking and the answers will start showing.

mourning in our mornings of the sickness of lack of love which has dawned upon us
So dark a world, the angels would frown busking at the thorns of dusk to awaken us
How women loved when they vowed to die for love
how much more when they lived to love and lived by way of loving


oh but material, this fake monster that dares go to war with the ethereal
succumbing norms embrace the watmth of the hug of the surreal
and it keeps on knocking and knocking but the ears of the people were shut and soon they would forget what it felt like to love
and man or wounders of earth would rip the purity once more overwhelmed by the magnitude and magnificence of woman
helpless and bewildered, man he turns to violence to fight for his own right

but in these bouts all these fights; they leave scars so deep that they become  orifices
and the essence of woman is darkened to sin and repels all things good
becoming a vacuum that ***** out the purity and well intentions of kind men
birthing underdeveloped zygotes that populate the thinking in society
these halflings tattooed with stereotypes and false beliefs impinging a doctrine that overthrows the goodness of the male gender


so all she will know women are the evil deeds of men and the good becomes illusive
somebody rigged this program , new versions and updates are slow to process
so the image woman has of herself is low
an image of weakness, inferiority and inadequacy
the few men who do come to love, barely make it beyond the firewall of servitude of self-righteous gods and and immortal godesses but what does this have to do with love?


How is it building up the image of the possibility of good men and the freeing of violent and dysfunctional men?
How do these systems and rituals build and culminate once more the image of divine woman?
where man was and is and shall be maleandfemale integrated


There are many religions and sacred beliefs but if God or Divine Source does indeed exist then we as descendants of It/He/She/Them; should have their encoding in our DNA and that is the scribe within our conscience
our hearts
our sincere feelings
our authentic being
our celestial roots

when women loved; men went to space during *******
men built houses as fit as temples
love and marriage were separate entities
children never left home
self was fulfilled because of the freed feminine energy of creativity and spirituality within each of us
before patriarchal systems and woman-oppressing religions
when women loved men forgot about war because to their women they were equal and complete


so now relationships fake and dysfunctional
angry men and vindictive women
children at the helm of injustice
some spend time in the garden to restore
some are in the park not to look for a parking for they have found their place on the bench
they warm the bench not to get fired up before getting onto the field but to keep warm from the coldness all around:
the lack of love and sincerity or refining tranquility

Many have forgotten how to feel for many things are manufactured like products
and people engineered like parts sold off into the market
each business protecting its culture and creed no matter who bleeds
what would Mother nature say if woman still loved?

probably cry that love is being aborted and darkness recycled so material continues to industrialize.

When women loved
love was the only deal and righteous will

The body for fool's folly or the emotions embodied

what love is it when she breaks your spirit?
how can it be hate if she uplifts your vision and clears your intuition
what love is it when she sleeps with your friends?
how can it be infatuation if she wants to be a lover and a friend?

The gift of the presence or the present material fiscal absence

what love is it when she spends more time counting her wish list rather than counting on both of your dreams to come true?
how can it not be love when hours spent with you frees her from her insecurity bars and stares in your eyes sees nothing but stars
What love is it when all she sees herself as is an accessory and a money vacuum?
how can it not be love when all she births is a carefree environment for creativity and harmony?
can she tolerate broke spells or is she constantly thinking bells?

Altar for the ascent of stars or the attire for escape from insecurity and dive into unreal fallacy

Does she live what she says she does before she says 'I do'?
Is it the beginning of a voyage for two souls on a cosmic multi vibrationional eacapade fusing as one to experience the Divine Creator?
Does she swear to take a bullet for you or will she be the first to stab your heart from the back?
Are these two souls ready for love in a metaphorical and astrological sense?
Before the slippery wonder of incense, candles, chocolate and wine
all memories for nostalgic rewind
Is it just the wedding and not the marriage, the thorns of the rose after the dessert flower?

beyond these worldly doctrines may doctors and scientists iron
Dig and seep through to find the wisdom iron
the true meaning of love beyond what the gods of culture and age-old beliefs have wired
so we don't worry and struggle to find our spiritual ties that keep us aware and alive time and time again.

Something happened

something happened I don't know what
A child was robbed a life to hijack the death of a dying old soul
Something happened I don't know what, a child lost battles but won his own war
an eye was tainted but a bright vision was cosmically painted

Something happened, I don't know what
Luck was exchanged for apologies of a hand laid for nostalgic cries that scream for youth rewind
A ball at the berth was crush to thrash the emotions of a fanatic misunderstood

Something happened, I don't know what
A family was torn apart slowly by the throws of evil darts
So strange the mystery leaving dark and dysfunctional parts
When a heart was broken, a child's chest got spasms

Something happened, a dream was chased but motives were replaced
a child's life was sacrificed because of the faults and duels of adults
A planned program of a series of events

Something happened, what was it?
Someone lied somewhere
the truth was shut down
and when it awoke souls broke out of hell
something happened if we can recapture
Something happened
led to a lot of injustice but trust this it was the birth of judicious virtues and vices.

The stars I cannot reach, they're as far as the pastor on the pulpit as he'd preach. They're as vague as mother's speech when she'd teach
Prison walls concealing me. High walls confining me
Caged in a cubicle, I'm a boisterous being
I'm at a den
I'm the lion and the prey
Words slap me back as I pray
It's a wrestling match between myself and my demons

Where if higher I'd have  undeniable intellect and reason
I am a slave of hope and a sorry case for dreams
When will I leave this place where they took my life away
Was it so horrible that crime that with my life I had to pay?

Prison bars I draw the energy and strength of the steels as I hold
I am getting out of this place wise and bold
Sunrise reminds me of regret, how I let them take my life away,
How I had to be militant,
unyielding and fight on the day
Prison bars fade so I can see the way
Rain or shine I have only pain and sorrow to claim as mine

It's a dark place in which cries echo and songs of weeping are sung
There was a number of men singing songs of sore souls and I heard the heartbeat of a woman

Moments still live and I levitate, my heart cascades and the memory remains firm and thorough,
the memory of love, the unity of family, the memory of amiability and brotherhood
The memory of the forgotten wars and the terror of crippled minds
What weapons have I to save a dying legacy?

Prison bars acknowledge the vocal emotion that is within me and free me
Yield as you realise they can't take my soul
Yield as you notice that a home could heal
Surrender for I have a worldly good in store
Shake and dither as the beating of my heart makes you uneasy
Break down as I refuse to stay down
Melt as I cry out tears as hot as lava
Give me a chance to find a lover
Prison bars give me chance to create another

I hear the wings of a bird flapping and I remember the breath of life
The song that faith inspires lives again
I sound deafening noises that eradicate the constriction
I hold it firmly til it comes crumbling down
It is an army of a new generation
Soldiers who have souls
Prison bars fall down to the floor
It is a tale it is folklore
There's more to life than death; I die no more