life has become poetry .
There are no answers to the why questions,
spiral steps interpret my dreams as I lie in bed,
the ongoing fled, I fear not ,
for suffering is just a term of subjective experience wich pinpoint my individuality
walk closer so I can expand,
gentle wings grow out of my back as the spine bends to my divine will,
hand In hand I see not a fairyland,
yeat another demention of something even greater then little people with glitter and glow
reveals itself and it knocks on my door
I ponder I look I doubt and squirm what if, is it, can it be,
it is to good to be real
Oh my tender mind chaotic chains do not desturb my new game
it is a choise
I choose to look into the depths of all
,the awe of me
where I truly run wild and free"
-Karen Maximus
For us GothiThink
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