These words comfort me like a soothing symphony.in the mist of my blinding sorrow.
these methaphors construe with my soul to ease my mind. As the sun surely brings light
I find it hard not smile watching similes come to life a mental ressurection of words.
The ironic nature of sinful priests create a sense of paradox in me as I invision their ever failing attempt for a justification to ease their minds of the guilt of holy pretence.
This is no way to live life with fear and doubt. And if all else fails then never fail to consider.
Cling to my every word if u must and hold dear these ideas of a mental revolution that will lead us once more to a evolution within our way of living.
Until we learn to once again see that the solution lies within our way of thinking.
So stopn, stop this mental suicide that kills you each morning and we will stop morning and moaning.
When we begin to stop yearning for change silently and our actions are as usful as rain in the ocean.
So let us once again make love to our dreams,while caressing our hopes.
Never forgetting to embrace our desires so that we Come with every thought and Climax to all the ideas we hold most dear.
However before we can do all that let us first have a mental foreplay by kissing each Word until we are ready to Speak the love we most desire