Get in a last word, since silence is golden, then in the end all that is spoken betrays the honest truths the value of sharing a meal sustenance to feel fulfilled, now that talk is cheap...
Be more profound to take me aback like a gust of wind through hallowed doors to the hollows of burial and sage and prayers where subservience of love denies the body of its flesh to please the ephemeral ghosts...
yes, tell me how deep your adoration's lashes if all the deserts we've traversed meant as much as the time of my worth will it bleed--those words for me? Are your words as bread or food uplifting in the roots of you?
I am no shepherd nor are you a herd of sheep, a flock unable to fly without a mind to think I am just another king like any like you the last word at the rabble a dying flame from the candles drinking wine, beneath the sky of olives and infinite eyes here with the stain of un-seeing in search for a well that will not dry for a familiar day of kind of rain...
Tell me what's a good word without one made by ****** hand of man, one that is like music / laughter a celebration's feast teach me instead,
and please don't preach...
What worth is made when words are bade like a trader of slaves to whom he's paid, or a master in his own house at a maid? Such business is moot in its absolutes, a kiss on the cheek without a word multiplicitious and astute obvious in the eyes of company kept brother in the dark I heard wept
A tree in shadows hangs the rotten fruit
Ananke dangles like most words must do from the mouth must taste as dung often done -- invisible daggers to the heart untruths then less and less of brotherly caress
nor some kind of familiar can be found no infinite wonder
the one and only one
You, whom I have been preparing to be made new, to wake from the pain of this blister these mirages we hunger and run to, don't speak what I want to know I already have seen the final show and words are only words unheard by the deaf heavens selective with their ears to cherubs glee what is found when the One above or any of the many stars that see our globe in desert blizzards,
ill regard as plenty as snow nothing of the kind, or good in kind, what word equals
the image of everlasting Oh just a sip ...?
There are only so many words in a universe of infinite light language can be made like jars of clay
simple like breaking (of hearts and day)
if eyes were speaking through our tears how loud must we shout "Love" before there's nothing that's enough to keep us thusly home not just merely an EYE to clear / and still, I am with you here.
Push away the old world words that once poured into my cup, I want home to be as heaven is esteemed take this cup away from me blood of transcendant poetry...