Where king the son of man is kingdom upon the hearts of words of the poet as lovers love enchanted souls aimed above walking where only sky might seem is pointing at the sun between set and rise and days as starless as blinding the light as blind the darkness we know about but nothing else while think nothing more bout the other.
Blessed to know not than to know wrong. To never search and never find cause never lost. All we have thou are owned by as we serve a slave we bought to pay sorrow and worry to mind close while time laughs and love sings and brave are being bold and not have bravery behind window glass as the wise listen while the lord speaks a wind bout breath it took and dust and tear a soul bout breathing and sound of silence as the truth right. Therefore why wouldnt.
Of all the might but death certain thou important to note do to appeal on men to recognize the mean of being dead and meaning of fate of which had died. Of too late be too soon. Meanwhile a moment. Death doesnt ****, sin does. Its a friend moretheless a foe of living the way out. Like an answer. Like a door. Like the coin flips. Like the news. Like a mistake flawless. Like the joke is wise, since, it takes one to know one. The impossible, the perfect.
As important the road you path, is the foot how step. Good and right as wrong bad, for better or worse, worst is the best. As long youre true, youre right. For wisdom of mistakes the hurt of pain that made us powerfull. Wise and strong. For loves sakes. Beautiful.
I know. Bless you.