Shall we dance a never-ending dance?
I don't want our dance to be a ballet dance spinning and losing the opportunity to lose myself in your eyes.
I don't want to modernise our dance and forget for a second that your presence is the only place I want to be.
I don't want to be hip or hop, letting go of your hands
I don't want to tap around you; the noise is killing me. Can I just dwell in your heartbeat, waiting for your words?
I don't want to quicken my step only to lose trust in you
The only chacha I want to be saying to you when I am addressing you in the Hindi language for it breaks my heart to turn my back on you for a millisecond
Yet sometimes I forget that you do not look at the outer appearance or shall ****** you like a Salsa dancer with her lover, but you are too graceful, full of wisdom, and then I think of beautiful, you come to mind.
The dance is about us, so Lord, I am listening to what dance you would like to dance with your bride.

My belief i believe is so a bit different than what you hear of the comon in an average day.
I believe in endless posibilities and almost what divine abilities we call as created a natural the soul we are in spirit the joke we bound to get later on how tested once we failed to learn to stand on our own two feet as many times it takes to fall as to fly but a pair of wings fail and repeat and make sure to never fail to try for as once had think i was made to know gods are here with us and watching good to note worth a notice not a greater insult than a lie and of pretend nothing found as foolish to act yet with fright a dread to decide left to fate be us to blame. Gods are watching always like the mirror the memory portraits by feeling knows in heart roots the painting of the song branches by sound of silence knew like ever the time comes leaving and wind calls a breath it took in wonder a marvel of ink. The other side of then before now and after and true and one to be like word the name nor above nor below where to never find but if showed as love to give and not to take to doubt is to hesitate when something is wrong is only right and blank as to having oneself but selflessly might as to walk must both feet of heaven towards free as to fly of wings a pair wisdom of faith to believe undefined and love of trust of truth the unknow the nature alike limits and ways naive and cruel like the ocean around blue the green and green the blue sky a meadows worthy to rose for honest even thou beautiful and mad like spring and summer short. Gods are watching, looking for their children and new and old friends and loves be and polite yet daring to lack a secret like the sun cast shadows we cloth and since the body you dress like feather of birds stuck to air like skin of snake to crawl figured by will to heart a feel known and mind to imagine  and define remembered to dream tomorrow today like the sky in horizont part day and night between in dew and clouds writen it rains and storms over our fields the news with all we sow we harvest to the last call nobody can answer for you nobody to go instead as to guilt but hands of deeds and will had willed to blame nobody to knees bend for sins of others but own if none least happiness in troubled times yet to forgive to forget if dont know and heart dont ache nor ties nor weights. Gods are watching, delighted.
Attracted by and desired to near their heart it takes a beat what restless like to certain is sure to worry enough go mad to come to senses as to be wrong it takes to not be right, as to learn and take a chance and make love and admit that naked underneath my soul no less too like the gods that are here without form to compare according what accordless nor name to call on like the moon might look to fit our pocket just as known once understood. Gods are here like the color in abstract like the day and truth
Love be fate have time to do. Breathtaking like the butterfly
every breath touch their wings.
Absurd like an advice in sense of humor irony reason to have.
To speak in tongues a kisses
Like lions having nothing to say
Heavens sure a flower or a tree
To come to matter what bliss
To find the source have roots planted to in front her *******
Child to a mothet its born to
Like angels do for heavens love
Gods are here and we shall too.

When the stone was unrolled and noone was there, just a blanket of the living not to be found among the dead.

After the toss of a coin lost all he had a purple robe to one of the soldiers for the cost of what fortune hell to pay.

Dying his own choice the words said and king the name on cross above his head by authority is to give it was given.

Mocked till the last hour they laughed he saved others let him save himself as the only one not in need to be saved.

No one there but john and women in front of the crucified of least that innocent most of men to be done as written.

As he cried in terrible hour for father why left him alone when but for hearts of the world to ache had to look away.

Till death has come to meet its match after the crows and the spear and the earthquiek and the temple breaking in half.

When the stone was unrolled after waking the guards as it was since third day you promised be till end of time.

A song played by so many,
Heard in infinite variations, 
Violence and oblations,
Beyond our mortal stations,

The Triune of the universe,
King and Lord of all,
The worthiest source, 
Insight into shining truth,

Warmth and life,
Enhances us into enlightenment,
The rebirth of fire stripping back impurities,

Oh the Triune, King of the Universe. 
So many pray to be pluralists, 
Hoping for pluralist babies,
Praying for purple Daisies,

Looking at the mobius strips,
Where to even start?
What wisdom there is to impart?

Looking through prisms at,
The bluest of contraptions,
Through Goya's mixed abstractions,
Picasso's representation of reality,

Worked our way down the path,
A room that cannot be found,
A path that confuses and confounds,
A sin of pride sung by the bride,

Are these the stations?
The death of our nations,
Is it the deviations?

Calvin speaks of pre-destination,
Disbelief in oblation,
Summaries above his station,
Where is he now, what is now?

Every seed upon a rock,
Every foundation upon the vultures,
Lacking stability to advise the manufacture,

Trapped in a catatonic daze,
Disguising the onward march of fate,
For when time will count the date, 
Rue the day when we ruminate about space,

Amplified Polar neuron twitches,
Passing us by with bipolar switches,
Uncoupling and unhitches,
Welted stitches falling apart,
The fool now plays his miserable part,

I know there was a room I couldn't find. 
Did it ever manage to demystify?
Is this how the events arrived and came by?

With songs played by so many,
Heard in infinite variations, 
Violence and variations,

The Triune of the universe,
King and Lord of all,
That the worthiest source, 
Insight into shining truth,

Warmth and life,
Enchants us into enlightenment,
The rebirth of fire stripping back impurities.
For you are my refuge and security.

My soul is slowly dying,
Flesh is wriggling and writhing, 
Teeth chattering and gnashing,
My spirit will be no more,

Who do you think can forgive you?

When my form is silence,
Inanimate and pale,
Stone cold and  dry walls,
When life is no more,

Who do you think can forgive you?

And see my spirit is starving,
Destitute and poor,
Longing for evermore,
When the Earth will be no more,

Who do you think will raise you?

When we're laid to rest,
Alone & cold, shattered bones,
Present in the wind & stillness,
Longing for the Lamb to witness,

Who do you think will raise you?

And when the Earth is renewed,
Our souls & spirits rent,
Long arrears now due,

Will the Lamb witness you? 
Who do you think will forgive you?

When the world is laid to rest, 
And the new Earth is brought, 
As you were bought and sold, 
To the Lamb,
Who now owns you,
Who do you think will forgive you?

And your words were written,
Now your words are written,
And your word was flesh,
Our crimes rend by your grace,
I trust my life in your hands,
For you purchased it,
After the passion,
The slaughter at Calvary,
How could you forgive me? 

How could an ode be written to you, 
Am I just lukewarm water to you?
Please, I beg of you.
Hosanna in the highest.