Each Thing That Exists Remains Forever, And

Between What Is Said And Not Meant, And What Is Meant And Not Said, Most Of Love Is Lost.

God Has Given You A Spirit With Wings On Which To Soar Into The Spacious Firmament Of Love And Freedom. Is It Not Pitiful Than That You Cut Your Wings With Your Own Hands And Suffer Your Soul To Crawl Like An Insect Upon The Earth?

Believing Is A Fine Thing, But Placing Those Beliefs Into Execution Is A Test Of Strength. Many Are Those Who Talk Like The Roar Of The Sea, Gut Their Lives Are Shallow And Stagnant, Like The Rotting Marshes. Many Are Those Who Lift Their Heads Above The Mountain Tops, But Their Spirits Remain Dormant In The Obscurity Of The Caverns.

Behold, I Have Reached The Peak Of The Mountain And My Spirit Has Taken Flight In The Heavens Of Freedom And Liberation. I Have Gone Far, Far Away, O Children Of My Mother; The Hills Beyond The Mists Are Now Hidden From My View, The Last Traces Of The Valleys Have Been Flooded By The Ocean Of Serenity, And The Paths And Trails Have Been Erased By The Hand Of Oblivion. The Roar Of Ocean Waves Has Faded. I No Longer Hear Anything But The Anthem Of Eternity, Which Harmonizes With The Spirit.

Love That Is Cleansed By Tears Will Remain Eternally Pure And Beautiful.