Sunday, March 1, 2009
Awe is deadly to the soul, the soul,
For it damages the evil spirit and mince,
The management of the existence is a role
That we play, that may gain footprints.
This life is but a long journey, a tool to tell
When one is brother and medal,
Let us drive the river of water to dwell
In it, to risk our paddling and be acceptable.
This loving weather of Earth carried units
That we share and sell with acumen,
Like a computer circuit and coordinates,
Shall this be obscure, or shall we abandon?
Love is in the oxygen, love is full of hatred,
For it has esteem to manage, to catch and match,
Like a brother and sister in conflict abated,
Opening us, closing us and so we can attach.