Recup As love outdoes interpretation what remains is what wants to- The end to all good things really the greatness of self-sufficiency- Joy the dispeller of the foretold, comes_ Too playful for the play? In a way- The image so much in motion, and all too kind for the bind- Laughter, the bliss, approaches_ Freely, the meaning given for all took Its own, from the whole that never knows Life is ever in life Knowledge, you idle first born! You magnate whose only conceit was the idea of it! You, mystery, made us! Won't you let us help you too?!
Too playful for the play? In a way- The image so much in motion, and all too kind for the bind- Laughter, the bliss, approaches_ F'ing awesome ^
Knowledge IS firstborn, yet we settle for belief.... Beautiful, D. Poetry, too? You never stop amazing me.
Thanks you two! ;D Weird The life-time yawns Of passing-on grown weary Drawing the dawn that lovers dream While the fearful try to round off their nights Magic is as hearty as we make it! What is writ and spak and whisped and lawed Of no account to we who think the best of us! And who are we? If you haven't guessed that, then guess! How to get in? We find everyone alive. We destroy the despair of the injured and undo the dead. Beyond espionage, enemy to lockdowns, the keyhole finds its key. We haven't time for the run-off, for-sake-ofs, pride in produce We forgive in more and less than light years or split seconds We'd become all things if we didn't know better, than things Being always over being a game --- delight itself!
