Jul 2020
Peninsula Icarus
We consciously strive for the elusive insecure with doubt and hesitation: We cannot know the confidential boundaries or the end of our destiny paths destined for us - yet we are lurking towards the unknowable Tomorrow! The shackles of trampling and tangles are binding, holding back: We cannot give to the Fear that is his! Our durable, sure humanity!
His instinctive action of “could have been tried” is still relevant and justified. Conscious self-pity that we respect our own cowardice with selfishly vulnerable tears - it is feared that it is seldom enough today! How would I be worthy of merciful and giving pity? Then the kind voice of our hearts will be spoken for us. Each question to consider generates and grows new decisions: Being rolls dumpling-shaped pitfalls, while common sense is in place of purpose and will!
I’m just a wounded emptiness sometimes, maybe just worth trampling on. I should map out good intent values on my own. When the day is over and the brain is still clicking and something in the heart is shaking! The iron cat of pity is sometimes thrown at me and, as an excess, a single piece of life jackets, and like the surging-loving sea, I often share the fate of uncertain, swaying, drifting shipwrecks!
Love gives wings to many! As a half-nailed Icarus, even a careless moment was enough to look at the lava caves of the immortal universe.
We consciously strive for the elusive insecure with doubt and hesitation: We cannot know the confidential boundaries or the end of our destiny paths destined for us - yet we are lurking towards the unknowable Tomorrow! The shackles of trampling and tangles are binding, holding back: We cannot give to the Fear that is his! Our durable, sure humanity!
His instinctive action of “could have been tried” is still relevant and justified. Conscious self-pity that we respect our own cowardice with selfishly vulnerable tears - it is feared that it is seldom enough today! How would I be worthy of merciful and giving pity? Then the kind voice of our hearts will be spoken for us. Each question to consider generates and grows new decisions: Being rolls dumpling-shaped pitfalls, while common sense is in place of purpose and will!
I’m just a wounded emptiness sometimes, maybe just worth trampling on. I should map out good intent values on my own. When the day is over and the brain is still clicking and something in the heart is shaking! The iron cat of pity is sometimes thrown at me and, as an excess, a single piece of life jackets, and like the surging-loving sea, I often share the fate of uncertain, swaying, drifting shipwrecks!
Love gives wings to many! As a half-nailed Icarus, even a careless moment was enough to look at the lava caves of the immortal universe.
