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War's Graft is a Look Like None Other


You shall not kill your self, child.

I may not remember much, but the look on a child's face who's just seen her mother die from war's graft is a look like none other, horror personified by the human touch...

I pray laughter return again and you seek your never-end, for end's too absolute, and of your birth was God's grace and everything's within its place.

The wound, you must remember, comes from the inside out.

Before you is Love, she waits for your consent, not your doubt.

You shall not kill your self, child, Love has other plans...


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime


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