I was molded by his own hand sculpted to perfection and eager to please who else other than my husband for without Adam, there is no Eve
at least, that was before he slithered into our perfect life pounding our perfect garden into the ground with his slick feet conniving and a brute, he convinced me to take a bite and share my fruit with man for what is mine is his my knowledge is his
I am his
together we ate snacking and licking our fingers with glee wiping the secretions of the fruit of mankind against the tree we tore it from
until our Paradise's pastures declined the wildflowers overtrodded with weeds the singing waterfall vanished only to be replaced by an evil, magmatic spout
and our tree, our once bountiful, glorious, fruitful tree decayed from the inside out
Adam's burning glare rotted my fruit and my seeds until they and I dropped to the burning embers on the ground like nicks off of a pebble that was thrown too hard or like hairs from the back of a matted mother cat that has spent far too many heatless winters hunting for a different life, for any life
with no more than a curse from Him, I became the failed experiment of humanity tossed into God's own graveyard left to rot with my stolen seed
I always run out of words Whenever I try to describe your beauty, Your eyes are so pure that I always got lost in it, Your smile is so beautiful that I could dive in, You are so handsome and beautiful like greek god, You are so special and kind, If I ever try to put you together in words then I can write thousands of love books, Your brave soul always protects me from evil, There is no end of your beauty, And there are no boundaries to our love, I love you a lot and will love you forever, You are only the reasons bcoz of whom I got to know what's the love is, Thanks for being in my life and loving me a lot and making my life worth living, You are the best thing ever happened to me.
The chalky Cliffs of Dover crumble in my fist. Tucked away neatly in my pocket. I have the power to become a person completely in control. The tension seething in my chest no longer. All I need is the key. A simple motion not readily accepted by the masses. 'Tis not we who wait for the dust to settle but for the dust to settle we. The reuptake of life hidden but always near. We care not for the hands that pass the life from person to person. For they could be from the grimiest of grim and still our hands are cupped for their foul crooked benevolence. We are gods and what is purity without the soot and **** and **** to define it. Synthetic courage and emotional restraint what more could the people want. Only a few care for the real me, the anxiety, the truth. Why pander the rest when I have complete control within a plastic seal, tucked neatly in my pocket.
Clear water without a hint of discoloring Free from anything however small floating inside What is the purity of your kindness Can goodness be tainted? Although the outcome is wholesome Do motivations lessen the good of goodness?
How good is goodness If goodness is conditional? If all the good I ever do Is to get something back If I neglect those with nothing to offer And bargain with those who'll do anything for help? A desperate cry to my ears sounds the same As coins clinking while they form a pile As the shuffling of bills With every "good" deed My heart races as the weight of debts owed to me grows
When the pure water of a good act Is used to put out eternal fire Done not because I love you But to appease my angry master Under threat of hell, how can my motivation remain pure? If good people is what the master wants Why even muddy the waters with goodness under threat? Unless it's not about good people But about having people that can be controlled Monopolizing on man's fear of the unknown To create slaves that will shackle themselves For the illusion of safety And to be free of the burden of thinking
The Good Face
How good are good acts Done merely to preserve an image? To stay in people's good favors? To be praised for your selflessness? Like the good that asks for something in return And the one that comes from fear If being good was not rewarded Would you still seek it out? You can't help if people praise you For doing what anyone should But you can help if that's what drives you If you save all your goodness for the spotlight
For Goodness Sake
I saw you hurting Your face was not that of a stranger's Because although I've never met you I know you. You're me, if all our circumstances switched I'm just as human as you There are no main characters here It only feels that way because ours are the only thoughts we hear But you're no different than me. We're all only people But I have the ability to help And so I will. I don't need to be seen I don't need you to repay me I'm not afraid of any religion's hells I just have compassion for you, fellow human. Unconditional love is the heart of pure goodness The heart of goodness for goodness sake.
The purity must be cast aside to see God equal in all people. For all are unified in station and wealth in rank before God, none more righteous nor more rich than another. In this case God enriches all of us in our lack and withholds in our fortune. For none is self-sufficient without Him. Purity is more about the strength of desire. It is easy to remain pure when its fires are not enflamed. What does purity and righteousness hold? It can only be detachment from the world. The "world" meaning that which takes us from our Lord. Is it right to delight in purity? It seems so empty in a world with so few single women my age that doesn't have kids nor does drugs. I actually don't even know one. Really. I'm pure for myself then only? To delight in my righteousness to only belittle the feeble? To stand as a noble eunich with the ****** 40 & 50 somethings? If I'm pure, I have no home in the dust. I have no friend to share in purity. Purity is outward. How do I perceive reality with outward orientation? Pure ways become my mantra. Not just chaste eyes, but a pure body. I become enslaved to worship my own body. My outer body has no significance to me. I smoke cigarettes to fight my eyes from transfixing on it. I postpone workouts until not my body but my energy is in need of vitality. I tattoo my skin to break the idol of the body.
And Again I am left alone Into the darkness of unknown thoughts My mind processes to get me a throne Set me to the crown that had Hall of shows Purity , Pressure and Post gets to my notes All I have done is made me believe what is known Neutrality, Morality and curiosity are my favourite wrong projections All that I understand is fed into me to be a variation
The vulnerability of my life is thrown into the shadows My cloud of loneliness is heavily raining Nobody is here to save me from drowning Ignorance and unloved are major role shows Nobody gets me but want to go bold The only thing I hate now is me that has no goals.
"Why do people do impure things?" Because what is pure is disputed. Impurity often takes the form of beauty or passion that enlivens my life Placing the special in heart That was once an empty lot. "So why is it called impure?" Because beauty and passion, like other things, can cross the line of moderation And can take the forms of Betterment away if carried Into excess. Thus, it is not so much that There is impurity as there is extremism. This can shape a life into one That has stopped or not begun Any search for the depths of life. It is not so much that there May be impurity But the lack of connections Between souls and neighbors Which form a community That takes responsibility For their own spiritual, mental, Physical, and material betterment.