we've stricken down beauty
not listening to the languages of life
just because our own native tounges aren't heard
is no reason to shun the whispers
windscattered in every possible direction
then some unimagined


stories of soulshelters
housing the lost since time began
have patiently spoken
from beneath candlelit clouds


struggling to remain compassionate
as now even appointed angels
approach numerous angles
to protect the people
at all costs


i've payed my dues to darkness
but no longer will worry
be walking beside
this beacon


such a mission to continue
limping toward the light
feeling the love
lacerate my
sins of
past


i am striving to tame the tounge


the same one that had
caused me to listen to
shadowedisguises


i am my own free soul
vulnerable to letting
contol choose
itself


i forsee
ALL LIFE'S
aura implode


collectively deciding it would
do us well to be uprooted
from all we've grown
accustomed to


never-the-less
we've grown


so i am allowing
to be donated to
the light on the
wind asking


if i'm ready to see the
bigger picture


please
disassemble me
and seperate truth
from the mask i've been
classically conditioned to wear


i want nothing but honesty
and inkdrop wings


so i can leave behind
pastel painted
directions to
any and
all who
lose


themselves
within
themselves