“Solitude isn’t loneliness. It’s where I meet the truest parts of me.”
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The truest art is found inside the brush; not in the paint, nor the painter..... the picture only gets better with time.
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The rot of humanity's shadow is not in the ink, but in the darkness that fuels the pen,
gruesome daggers, dripping honeyed poison.
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"Victory
is won,
when you offer
your tongue
to the sacrament
that is
truest love
and written
on that wafer,
is your past,
a love note
counting
each number
reverently
towards
your future,
a heartbeat
walking
towards me. Home."
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What makes a man or woman, human? What makes a human put thoughts into words into stories? Surely, it is the Soul, the Higher Self that has the wish to convene with other souls. Is LOVE not the truest form of collaboration? When love transports a human out of the story into real life, then souls truly do meet. (Leanne Lovejoy-Burton writing as LadyLabyrinth)
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What makes a man or woman, human? What makes a human put thoughts into words into stories? Surely, it is the Soul, the Higher Self that has the wish to convene with other souls. Is LOVE not the truest form of collaboration? When love transports a human out of the story into real life, then souls truly do meet. (Leanne Lovejoy-Burton writing as LadyLabyrinth)
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love attains it's purist and truest nature only when the hope dies.
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