Your envy comes from your father. The desire comes from your creator. Only between stillness and forgetfulness can you see the final hour that can only transpire by motionless fires

There’s a book that tells you the other person did it

Only to build a gent society

It isn’t my sin

Point to who made him

Build yourself a kingdom

Only by the martyrdom

Pity that had to be done

There’s nothing but to be won

And, we’ll cross the line

Because, the cross you carry 

Means

Final Outcome

And Final Outcome means

The sum

Of, your father’s chosen, one

The partner you need

Forever bound by greed

We form a bond

Only to hear a sound

That, will make you

Sound

Without one, you’re no more whole, because

A soul

Comes from a story told

And

That story

Is

Always more

Always, more.

It wasn’t you. It wasn’t her, it was always 

together.

Together, coming from, One.

Only, one.

Poetry comes together quiet nicely. Wins me over over, a thousand pages, only to be studied – in ages, because life’s answers mean a summary of endless work, and, endless work means some kind of mission, and that mission, is … Look … At, me, I won you over. 

So …. What. I’m alone. That has to be done. Wish me luck toward the next coming poem