March 22, 2013

To be silent in the face of adversity is a steeping conquest, born of mountains to craggy to contest.  Humility is the waning moon, presenting only a bargaining piece to tithe.  Your mind must refute without distraction, while in this place a plea is unworthy. 

Inside there is knowing, understanding this steep façade.  The trouble lies in the continual rise of such a thing, while the mirage is yet minimal to your own feat, and your feet have no true pains.  

How great are you?  Your accomplishments are least compared to those who point to the clouded ceiling you’re not capable of reaching alone.  There you have to close to merchandise among the crafts and tolls.  Forever bargain, or steep? 

The only true knowledge you possess, to be reverent, is three steps down.  Should you share your instability?  Just a little bit farther, perhaps!?  Does the blanket of night really have an adverse affect?  Good tidings of great joy are found in every rest, it is only the foolish who would portend the sad sorrow of having to choose.


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