It is not a lake of fire,  sweet one

It is a place  that tells us
  that we are Loved


The only thing that burns
is the View,  seen from a distance..
from across the Chasm

--One that,  before its over
will no longer exist.

True story. xox

A lifetime of  ineffective tactics;

A solemn occlusion
Such an obscene intrusion--
(To break through  the confusion
brought on  by  The Illusion)

Within  seclusion,
is felt  the Conclusion--
the only one for me.
Heaven will be my Hell
(I know that too well..)

From a whole lifetime
  Summed up 

within the word, "Fail".
.      .      .      .      .     .      

Here on Earth
I feel the presence of Heaven
And  within me
I know..
I know..
I know..

I know.

What gain  is A Forever in Heaven?
I already feel it in me--
   But it is not me.

Yet, within me..  it  is  me;
and it will never.. ever leave.

Sweet Love of mine..
whom I can't seem
to break through, to
In order to  truly be there
   for you.

   Help me  to earn
         the right
   To descend in to Hell
(where there is no longer
the strength of Illusion)
Here,  I am not that strong;
I cannot break through it
   There..   in Gehenna
will be the removal  of illusion..
    Leaving only The View,  

      (.. no hinderance.)
.      .      .      .      .     .     .     .

Hell  is  the  View.. 
  perfectly seen,   from


  the most unbearable
                      distance.


May  what is in me
never leave me
And the Hell,  of Hell
   be,  to me
  like  a  Forever  Rising  Sun..
The most incredible, Heaven.
(the removal of illusion)

I pray you're not there..
   (almost  as much..)

Selah.


       My Heaven;
is to be with  anyone
       or everyone
(apart from  the illusion)

In order to  truly be there
   for them.

To whom (you)  it may (does) concern:


There is nothing Unfaithful  whatsoever
about saving your own life.




--it is me who is immersed in unfaithfulness.

Prairieland grass--
bent over towards the ground
by the dry, Fall wind
as the subtle warmth
  of a teasing Sun..

Submits itself to the
now impending Winter..
where grass and seed
sleep in dormancy
as the subzero wind
prepares the ground  
to receive  snow.. upon snow

upon snow.

..And there is this temptation
to draw feelings   and conclusions
from any one certain  part
   of the whole.

And those feelings and conclusions..
                             --they feel so very real

Because they were based upon  the real;
but only a part of the beautiful whole..
And though,  even  one part of the whole
is as real as every single  other part..

It is  in itself, incomplete.
Just as the bent-over prairiegrass
under the snow  is incomplete..


It is Spring now..  sweet, struggling Angel

    All things become new.