"Indeed. Dismount. Time for a burial and a nice graveside ceremony. Shoot a few rounds of blanks into the sky; Shout a couple of Hallelujahs and 'Blessed Be's;' Offer a burnt sacrifice by way of dried narcissus and dehydrated garlic, but grieve it ~ and leave it."
Author Unknown
Inside of the insidious thought lies in residence and in pensive detail a Mind. A Mind of the trapped kind. Not by what is, but, rather by what was. It is the history we store for reasons unknown, that seems to create the future in which we will one day inevitably end-up living our lives. In this life of gracious acceptance of our past as our instructive merit to "Duty and Honor," we may find that our voids will be filled, our wants become null and our needs recognized as extras afforded to us by the design of Nature in her wonderment.
The ability of what is unknown becoming known to us, is as adventure of the thrill-seeking individual. Understanding that one hand within the other, brings us to the heights of "Why" we begin a Journey or seek to go on a Quest is imperative to such an idea. This must be a category unto its own.
Believing that we are each here for a specific purpose, then I believe that birth delivered with us "Innocence." With such gifts, much like this one, which were bestowed upon us at our deliverance into this World, we are capable of breathing in the Heir of Life-Itself, in order to enhance our time while under Mother Nature's watch.
1 comment:
Has anyone ever told you that you write like Poe?
Or he writes like you?
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