Both the rich man and the poor man
Live in this fantasy world

The rich man wants more
While the poor man wants hope

More for anything
Nothing for hope

The rich man knows evil
While poor man knows hope

The rich man cries
While the poor man smiles

His confusing ways
With his tarnished eyes

All the poor man wants
Is to have hope from within

To hope for another
To fulfill his simple ways

Thursday, January 2nd, 2020 &
Friday, January 3rd, 2020

The Resplendent Sol shineth forth for each one of us. We are all one, even whence divided. In truth, there is no schism betwixt us.

       I awoke this morning assured of the Cosmo-Plexus' Empyreal Love, The Ransom of the Lovebound, and Provenance of Life by the Holy Dove. I am sure that his auspices remain even now. Even in the din of disquietude, in the Soulborne War of Stillness, his aegis dost remain.

I am roused from my slumber by foreordinance. The maelstrom of lament only stirs the Leadings of Lovelight within. I must simply listen to the glistening waft to illumine my shadow'd microcosm.

From what Starlit Aethers shall my Niveous Dove alight? From thence shall heartsease unfurl! I know not when the Light of Life shall shine his visage upon me; yet and still, I must trust in the sweetness of hope. Her honesty inspires faith & amour.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, there exist no needs for unrequited dreams. Why? The fantast fathoms imagination an extension of reality, a synergy, a duality, a plurality. Yet, even the phantasy desires realization.

The Rainbow is an insignia of the Noachian Covenant. The prism is a kaleidoscopic thread, one woven across the firmaments by a Grand Creator. It is a dream realized, by the Divine, of the Divine, and from the Divine.

       How can I find stability, how can I summon strength without the Light of the Lovebound within? Our moor in a sea of sanctity, is he, Christ.

Sometimes I feel chasmic & abyssal, as though my heart were a rapacious sea. I know not from whence this emptiness has arisen, nor from whence it can be sundered. Yet and still, I carry on, sometimes consumed by the seductive embrace pulsing betwixt my ribs. Will the charm of despondency unfurl its pall over me forevermore?

At this moment, pristine synchronicity aligns my heart & mind, thereby affixing my entity upon cloud-nine. I am genuinely enough; I am genuinely substantive, for, at this moment, reason & rhyme intertwine upon the wavelength of the sublime. Therefore, I choose happiness not because it comes easily, but because it is the only real & authentic way to live.

----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------The Life-Bearing Dictum:----------------------------

(Added for the
Promulgation of Inspiration
On
March 11th, 2020)

----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

(I) "Creativity is the residue of time wasted."

-Einstein

(II) "Darkness is the birth of a new dawn. It should be celebrated, not feared.

-Aladdin Zackaria

(III) "For look! I am creating new heavens
and a new earth;
And the former things will not be called to mind,
Nor will they come up into the heart"

-Isaiah 65:17 (New World Translation Study Edition)

(IV) "For you the sun will no longer be a light by day,
Nor will the shining of the moon give you light,
For Jehovah will become to you an eternal light,
And your God will be your beauty.
No more will your sun set,
Nor will your moon wane,
For Jehovah will become for you an eternal light,
And the days of your mourning will have ended."

-Isaiah 60: 19, 20 (New World Translation Study Edition)

---------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------

Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)

I'll admit that I’m not proud of my decisions
and I'll admit that I’m also proud of my decisions
and I'll tell you that it's always easier to ride a water slide when the water's running and
I know that my middle name is rather unextraordinary and
that yellow is not a color that looks good on me regardless of the weather
and I know that I’m a Pisces  even though I bear no resemblance to a fish
curving or otherwise
and I know that the moon is possibly the most magnificent thing in the sky in the middle of the night
and I understand the difference between love and lust and
I’ve learned that amends are hard to make
but so are almonds and trees do it all the time
I know that I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes
but I also know that I’m human and I’m capable of amazing things
I know that there are colors in the universe that I’ll never see
and I know that the color of my eyes is probably the most profound of those
and I understand that love is not an unkind thing and that
not everything lovely will belong to me
I know the difference between fighting and arguing
and I know how to apologize even when my throat is begging me not to
I’m a realistic fantast and I know that cynicism isn’t charming
no matter how angular your cheekbones are
and I know that being the nicest person in the world won’t save everyone and
I know that just because I cry doesn’t mean I’ll feel better
and I know that cookie dough does indeed fix everything
and I learned through trial and error that every yellow light is just a green light playing coy
and maybe my wrists are a little small and my bones stick out a little too much
and I’m perpetually in a state of winter
but I also know that I’ve got thin red lines healing on my skin
and a best friend who threw away my razor because I couldn’t bear to do it
and I know that I’ve got a grandmother who makes pasta for me
every time I come over
because she knows I could use the carbs
and I’ve got a dog that makes me remember the point of wearing a seat belt
and coming home every day
and I know that I hurt a lot and I feel things so incredibly fiercely and
I know that just because it hurts doesn’t mean I won’t survive
after all if I’ve told you anything at all
it’s that even in the midst of contemplating ways to die
I still find a million reasons to be
alive