In the moments that pass
I stand still
letting life flow through at last.
Trying to grasp the concepts at last,
that have weeded out the divine culture and saved the light from the asps.
Morning doves sound like they sing of love,
but who's to know truly what the word is from anyone claiming to be from above,
not that I say the will is weak for those who choose to never do and never speak.
But I see a bleak dawn, a dark hole sun for these days that have just begun,
the night has cometh and the day has just begun,
what is this?
We all cried out the war will be won,
Love has come forth
all hatred to be undone,
yes my brothers sisters,
love in your heart be only a start because we all play the part.
Our vocal chords be the harp,
and the time be ripe,
to move forward towards new order in the word of life
No longer shall I use my brothers words as a knife,
or sisters words with such strife.
For connection compassion and mass collection
starts with the idea of sustainability,
the masterful concept fibbonnacci spiral towards perfection.
