realing Lia There is No room for Souls on this Earth. Only vacancy for skeletons glowing in vacuous splendor. Tame the Heart. Drive it Deep Within. Until Death EmBraced metamorphosizes the Will. Heighten the Senses. Seek the Desert of the Awakened. Seek the Darkest night of the droving Dove. Seek Exits Flashing. Seek No where and No One. Space is Black. Devoid of Sound. The Eve of your Birth Mother only Surround. Yet, Who is Mother in this Deepest Space? Who claims Fatherhood to this InHuman Race? Carousels Whirling... Remember? Times of the Worthiness of the Spinning of Dreams. Times of Wakefulness and Wonder; Skimming Reptile Fringe. Assertions Assimilations Affirmations... All Angles we foreswearingly Besiege. Yet Alway Remains the Dark Night of the Dove. Always Remains the Pain we've empowered to Grieve. 080810 what's it to you? who go blather from