the mountain quietly gave up the wind down to the city, stretching all despair, forcing the body away leaving a dream
wipe the dew lightly bring the dew, fade one with the air, take the city is almost dead this
the wasted cry of wasted babies
the crying cry of a misled baby
soe once said,
"we are different in all but in love"
I add,
"love .... then also religion"
on sunglasses to HUMANS all look the same
bastards and scholars
people and rulers
even,
demons and humans
you and I remain different
Do you want to trace the space of time? to find the pieces and pieces that might know we can glue together and whole
you and I remain different
if I met him I might ask
"May I blend with your creation .... but he is not your servant"