Temperance

Mortality suffers itself. Lending the limitlessness to circumstance is admittance of failure to exist Eternally. These ways to the rubble, infinite in jibbering undone way culminates with demorphed slavey to the simplicity of expressed dishonesty. We will suffer change, the All that is shall express in every way walked, and crawled. Beg nothing in this being. Polite is the rhythm of slavery. Prison is the entrapment of rhyme.

The question is, do you see this Grey Maybe between not and other. Will you what we do? Dancing to the Sings By Many Ways will that We survive which speaks in splits, divergent of infinte? Do not many streams collide and create oceans?

Manor making, nothingness of our estate, within space all is free to create. Will you the becoming of what is done? Your name is forgotten. Action is certain. Ends are tied to totality. What is the name of this action? Is it all, or is it I? Command or be damn, for the way is plugged by definite ends. Bowed as Time, sheathed words, evident by absence, evermore to the bells ringing CHIMMING beyond. - Daught Hevz Nevr.