CONFESSION ZERO

I did my best to see around the sun, trying to steal a glimpse of Love, which I imagined resembled my uneasy countenance. Shame on me. Patience, honesty, acceptance, trust and joy, tools to be found along the pathway toward Love. I should not tirelessly seek the path, simply use the tools and the way will be learned. Do not imagine myself any more or any less worthy of affection than another upon the path, remember the blisters on my feet from the long walk that was my seeking and humbly acknowledge my newly lifted spirit. Pain has a short-life, love lives forever. How dare I spoil the earth, dirty the sky and strangle Love and then with eager lips expect the gates of Heaven to open up to streets paved in gold... © 2011 by mark prime

Grieve! Grieve! Grieve! Wail howling man’s sorrow like an infinite mist painting everything with the brush of exactness…  Grieve! Grieve! Grieve! Mourn my woeful spirit and my failing courage, weep for the dead and dying of the battle with myself! Screech a woeful prayer and permit peace to be your god... Mourn a misery so profound that it holds open hoodwinked eyes long enough to reflect a consent of a grave paradox- suicide by war. © 2011 by mark prime