I’ve learned that the witness of my expression, stands on trial. The judge and jury are those who whisper lies, in vain deceit! They speak the very accusation of their nature, they have not spoken the essence of what is opposite of their being. The courtroom begs for silence – as the wild arguments pursue on the tables of contract. Our pains come to intimidate us because in the face of suffering it seems like the only fate.
The law is still given in the hindsight of what is already in our minds. We can clearly speak to the writing that comes to keep us condemned. I’ve closely examined the passion that belongs to personal intimacy. Just, alone in the courtroom – Surrounded by your own fragrance & melody. As you hear these dripping sounds, taste the tip of your tongue. You stand undressed in the courtroom, and no one is embarrassed but the witness of expression.
I can’t say that I am surprised, at the accusations. However, I’m finally able to say: The judicial consequence is not punitive – rather restorative.
writing until the pen runs N2 paradise clarity! (by uniform & random means) 