MY OWN... I own nothing to speak of. (Too bad words aren't money, brother, because, with the output in your shell, you could afford to buy your way out of debt to a law you no longer recognize.)
You will stand with me Love, or I shall be forced to stand alone.
You are key and you know you are. Rise with it, no plans. Me. We. Peace and Love, Love and Peace.
If I don't know who you are, then the rest is suspect, fluid, chancy, tantalizing, wrong.
Bring the flower of your beliefs and I'll bring mine,
then, if it is to be so, we'll make some rather beautiful music in the now and the never-end,
if you so choose. But if you do, no tests. Truth. Nothing more, nothing less.
Settle down. There's no need to get too excited about things being set to pop. I hope kind spirits, those still reading even after the hit put out on Me. I am no one to trifle with, but then I'd imagine most of you know that by now.
Truth is all I am after, then, for shits and giggles, we can proceed at the pace allotted to us by God.
boom, fear, love, bunkmates
She's supposed to be in my dreams and my spirit, my thoughts and my arms, I nearly missed the boat altogether, but you should come find me, I've got something we could all use some of, in order to join with the other Gods in this flesh and bone tale of Love and Peace... Truth then is equal to the fantasy remembered of the truth. Truth. Ha! We wouldn't know a truth if it had our very face! We think we know so much? Why? Seriously, nods the gorilla. Yes, brays the horse. Songbird's have the same thing as Me. The affliction of succumbing to your nature. It is a journey not a damned free for all nightmare idiocy! Erect yourselves, humankind! Rise up with Me and be heard!
It's like we're running in the same direction to the same destination, but somehow your face looks worried...
© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.