Shattered before the mirror and then it followed suit. I had to face the reality I have come to know the truth. The love that I imagine is not something we feel, for the emotions we are subject to are not real. The master of puppets pulls our strings and we move with the waves, the enemy of our soul pampered in our desire and will lead us to the grave. That seems about right to man ,more or less, and the ways thereof are death. The forming of the understanding that we are all born dead, and the new birth happens in my stead. HE died that I may make it, I can't pretend right here I cannot shape it. I did not fashion the image I am the result thereof, and He said in this world that you not give your love. You know not Love, for God was and is and is to come the the Father above. The whole word would not be moved or pass away, the eternal creation stands errect for things that He talked that day. One two three or any but the seven, the seperation light and day the earth and the heaven. Go fold up like a vesture the hat that I am wearing not crown am looking like a clown some kind of guesture. I am twisted the way that vine doe when it is baring the fruit, the hurt in my soul with the seed thereof will have to find root. You are the tree the one whom will bare the reproach, you never could hear me you are unable to coach. You should of chose to be led, not now you hear what I said? dead dead dead