Intangible mechanisms of harlotry. Pulling with agonizing efficacy at the mooring of man. Latches cast open the residue of insignificant restraint pitch men to frenzy and the unhappy pursuits of women to flame. We are neglectful of harmonious participation in the real, the now the beginning seeking resolution. Reflecting upon mirror images of self and reason we dance away from precipice edge only to roll over the promontory to valley below. What response have we broken at world’s end?

We are slaves to those thoughts we cannot stop thinking. Reset, taffy pulled by paddle stretched to limits of our chemical outrage we deliver against expectations only to find ourselves short of time, cash and reason. Where are the logics of time’s passage? Where are the reasoned voices of men who thought it outstanding to consider a life well lived heroic? What broad exceptions have been parlayed by the false hearted such that we no longer stand with the gallivant against the wiles of darkness, struggling to remember the warmth and hope of light.

Flavored algorithms teaching children of the supernatural with naught but ghosts and dust as reference. Places found by accidental poking against the fabric of universal sinew. Danger too explosive as serendipity points to the bridges of Valhalla and the dark poisoned mushrooms of Pandora’s fumbling. What twain resides between unreal and imaginary? Is there a strap to adhere one’s raft sailing against the winds using water and fire to perpetrate the farce of avatar? When did confidence become insufficient to resolution? Where is fear bottled and sold to conduct mass deception? How shall we find birth having never sought the navigable seas for safe harbor?

Having not been tempted to buy or bury hatchets, define incredulity or refrain from pugilism, I wonder the meditations of Word that sees through me in my simple but complex creation. Nonplussed by raging jargon or ill equipped anatomy born of those dodging the loving hands of maturity and wisdom, I reside in peace attempting to imagine a peaceful stroke of luck for you. Dancing within the commas placed to capture my limits as worldly character I crush no blackberries and pecan between my molars and refuse the sweet smelling lilac upon the wind as it tempts my nostril. Hate begets the passionate version of this nightmare which I have been avoiding even forgetting to make obeisance for boatman. There is something more than I know and I readily pray I discover the privilege to have it shown me.

To say that I love you is inadequate still for how much may the mountain simply love the sky? Frozen granite fingers reaching out for her into the rich deep frozen blue of stratosphere. Tis cryptic this word of allegiance and belonging, that never seems to amount to the passions felt by a willing man. For Love is not cradle yet comforts as such nor bastion yet protects from the multitude of woes. Giving flowers a minor symbol of the galactic explosion of endorphins rushing through our bloodstreams as we contemplate even brief words. We are undone, prisoners, captured by this longing for another, yet fail in word and deed to express its depth.

How then frozen by the winds of time’s repeated majesty are we kept from ill by a pull to particular? What elixir made hopeful by the dawn escape against all odd from the urges lassoing our mind’s dragging us backward as necessary to the object of desire. Objects, desires what strange bedfellows these words that describe things when my fury burns for the living and urges would brave, storms, seas and battle to see her once again. What dream so dastardly lashes us firmly to following path whether by foot or heart or wing? What thing is this love that speaks so frail of its wanton will as it nervously searches the vacuous database of available phrase coming back with improper search words? We are slaves to something from which we meant no allegiance.

Were life to end as this love stands unanswered would then we portend the dangers involved? Or is it simply emotional this feeling that death would be preferred to the passionate pains within an unrequited heart? Where from did this disease inspire to entangle half the masses in quest and the rest in defense again it? What massive marevel awaits them who venture in hunt successful? What pledge regarded prayerfully is made to shape ones arrival? What peace grasps the heart that we may begin to relax the tensions threatening to tear us asunder? What is this Love that it overrides even the most powerful of evil intent, rendering them useless in the veil of simple smile? Where may I find defense against potency unmeasured?

Oh to fools this pleasure be. Where words are worthless, diamonds idolatry and whispers to long forgotten inference of inner children finally found. This folly is to death its parting never to be free from the prisons of adoration, the clutches of daydreaming the next encounter or finally finding freedom from worry, care or consideration. My clutches are ill acclaimed as these talons grip my very soul from which even smallest twitch futile. This is my self worship in the grasp of love so sweet then brutal, finding hope in the next gesture, mention or wink. My thoughts bridled my mouth useless my heart given to the dawn of forever waiting. I stand knowing a greater thing than this has been given for the asking. What creation to beset me with problems so torturously grand I cannot nor would not escape them? What creation to Creator owes the beauty and fealty of true love observed and answered?

In an effort to be candid in clarion forthcoming, I will not make it through the incarceration of the American Spirit. A thing having lived freely on the plains running, fighting, hunting with its brethren is not designed for circus or zoo. Are we reduced to viewing in captivity the last of our species that we may have experienced the Mighty Lion, Gorilla or whale taking alms and performing tricks so we too may say that we remember the days when? An America without inalienable rights and the guts to lay down whatever must be given to defend them is a toothless wolverine. I am a man of God’s peace but do not mistake that meekness for the weakness that modern men display as they stand bye when their families are plundered.

The Wild calls and Grace answers from the depth of my heart that a man may not mistake or escape the truth of his nature. As God transforms me, making me more as Himself I realize the warrior within, as God too is a man of war, protecting those whom He loves and enforcing the declaration of His Commandments. We do not serve a meager representation of Sovereignty but the Everlasting God who knows the price and the value of the live that He once breathed into each of us. Why would we believe even momentarily that He would simply stand by and watch infants dispatched before birth for the price of self concern when He has thoroughly enforced that love of the unborn and the hate for the Sin of wickedness that would sacrifice them. How may we even briefly consider ourselves absent those reflections or free from God’s wrath against it?

I do not wish this time in man’s maturation to be about me, but in contemplation isn’t about each of us and how we may find our way through the path of God’s Intention? I am not of this world yet the passionate cry of its passing and the deep love for mankind calls the raging fury of my Spirit outward in defense of the innocent. This is how man was meant to end, with much of us determining it is time to reach beyond the base lusts and quests of man stuck within the rut of carnality to something beyond, something pure, unwanton craving fairness and a tenderness toward those who will never be the “fittest”. IN Man’s graduation of humanity he removes himself from center, determining that the survival of all or most is more important that than the dominance of supreme man. We have come to the crossroad’s where Love is greater guidance than the pang in my stomach.

As I am tempered, measured, tested perpetually and found inadequate, the reconstruction effort continues. It is time for man to evolve but not as some prompting from the primordial ooze, but as a call to finally become as our maker that we may for once everlasting, walk with Him in the cool of the afternoon. Thank you for loving me enough to allow me to defend the weak and find peace in the sacrifices of a man who has grown to know the Love of God for man.

I scribble in the margins hoping to recall the key and suffer through the dark of night praying God remembers me. The days are mashed together and the weeks just fly on passed our sight, we give way to hope and plunder and resist with all our might, the fright that would have us surrender and the fear that wanders in. Don’t reach your destination before the prayerful pile in. The times they are such pleasure and the gifts just never end we were further toward surrender and soon became to mend, in friends and Brothers found we the courage to go on a song so often whispered kept us awake before the dawn. we sought the master’s pleasure while we struggled for the gold some found its way to memory but much of it we hold. incarcerated nightmares and dreams so loosely kept we looked upon the damsel and in her capture we all wept. The day had come so poorly and the weight of night soon fell we sat in abject disbelief of the stories he would tell. Standing on the top step we viewed the world below safe among the fires and freezing in the snow.

Where to my Captain send me to some foreign forgotten sea, to round up all the heroes to see what we shall be and the forest soon forgotten the mountain gently slept in the tunnels that we ventured our booty must be kept. Alas the time’s upon us we must run to foreign shores to fight so hard for freedom and hope for ending all the wars. There is no place for reason and fools have all been filled the master and his charge were so early caught and killed. We raged a war of anger and the fury in our hearts no one is spared the danger when the berserker Spirit starts. They suffered in their wisdom as their courage soon ran dry I had forgotten all my laughter and lost the will to cry. in the depths of my dissemble my truth had run its course it married the knight within me but this warrior found divorce We fell for lack of reason and answers soon were gone in the red of this grand morning we found the strength to sally on.

Rising two days later we piled up the dead our minds too slow to handle the lies that we’d been fed. The watershed was broken our cistern had run dry we forgot our hunger right off on our thirst we could rely. The passion of dark moments the fill of light’s warm hand in the shadows we rebuked them all the powers we misunderstand. They stood so firmly against us we buckled and we bent we’d forgotten our first promise and what allegiance meant. in this rebirth we found freedom from the men we had become, the churning guilt and bile we washed it down with rum. For a man can live two life times within this unholy shell if he can forget the sins been done him stomach’s turning from the smell. We all are everlasting together or apart, in weeping and the gnashing the rest shall play their part. For fortune has no favorites only God may bless a man, we had become the dogs of thunder stricken from His plan. In our conquest we found some measure of what a man may be but the agony and wonder would be the death of me.