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Description
Today I am a feather of the swan. I, sewing winds feet to shivering bones, gasp in beauties foretelling. I warn of a disposition that idles in philosophy, a stuttering tongue that muses on dead notes, claiming "A life lived describing itself has naught but to remember--- reveries that live for remembering life."

Desolate! Dying! Idle! Aimless! I say sew the lips and rip at your rib-cage! Dispassion the ill-tongue! I say sing with me! I am here for your freedom!
I have found you a place, you who grieves when I sleep, in the highest order. A place where we grow with one-another. A place to savor rapture!

There are few who see my urgent arms, cowering in deviant lullabies, and mistake my heart for anger. We will smooth out their tongues and come as one tonight. We will come to the palace, where Akashic guards sleep, and make music that conjures ourselves unto ourselves.

So speak no more of life! Discontinue your path of proving your way. Come with me blindfolded into the hands of The Now, where we will find one another with our fingers--- Holding close to the harps that pluck our notes--- and know at once "Life is here".

-Matty.

Description
Today I am a feather of the swan. I, sewing winds feet to shivering bones, gasp in beauties foretelling. I warn of a disposition that idles in philosophy, a stuttering tongue that muses on dead notes, claiming "A life lived describing itself has naught but to remember--- reveries that live for remembering life."

Desolate! Dying! Idle! Aimless! I say sew the lips and rip at your rib-cage! Dispassion the ill-tongue! I say sing with me! I am here for your freedom!
I have found you a place, you who grieves when I sleep, in the highest order. A place where we grow with one-another. A place to savor rapture!

There are few who see my urgent arms, cowering in deviant lullabies, and mistake my heart for anger. We will smooth out their tongues and come as one tonight. We will come to the palace, where Akashic guards sleep, and make music that conjures ourselves unto ourselves.

So speak no more of life! Discontinue your path of proving your way. Come with me blindfolded into the hands of The Now, where we will find one another with our fingers--- Holding close to the harps that pluck our notes--- and know at once "Life is here".

-Matty.