Ruthless summer scorching the winds that blow,
From deep within, from the abyss of the mind, begins a scorching even more.
The volcano of thoughts boiling the ground below, that moment of calm before the storm.
The waves of the ocean too mellow they sound yet the depths of the mystery they so profoundly do hide.
In wellness and mystic calm, there is a tension uprising;
waiting for the emotions to get a definite form.
The molten lava that soon will flow and sure it will wait for none or spare none who fall that way,
such is anger and such is anger divine with knuckles buckling with each clench, teeth grinding with each blow endured, and the smell of blood mixing so well with sweat for the pain borne.
A reminder that some reasons matter no more for the brunt comes from a crux of essence undisclosed, so passive and vivid now that the one that bears is lost in the faint reminder of the trance that life has led itself into.
What makes people think that by birth they are given the slot they stick their arses to?
What insecurity makes them kick the one's that climb?
What prevents them from enjoying the fight?
What stops them from dropping a helping hand than nuzzling the neck with their heavy boots?
When will this crushing be over?
When will they ever learn that life is simple and we live it just once?
Fate and Karma are just one over-hyped bullshit to soothe the heart and to reinstall that mortals are immortal... when will they that behest the chance and blame it on fate and karma ever see that the heart doth ruleth the world and seldom the mind and the distance between both the longest one oft travels.
Bottomline: Give me the money that has been spent in war and I will clothe every man, woman, and child in an attire of which kings and queens will be proud. I will build a schoolhouse in every valley over the whole earth. I will crown every hillside with a place of worship consecrated to peace. ~Charles Sumner