But
we become brittle and breakable. Only to be crystallised.
Solidification.
A burning desire to knead fullness, a
spiritual space of bliss, we writhe, struggle, cut, bleed, scale, scathe,
wriggle and calcine.
Never
giving up, being pulled, dragged into this mighty cloud. Where the little God
sends you a whisper, with a tail. Catch it for it is engineered destiny, and it
shall conclude.
The
rising, the birth, and then there was a bliss. One that carries you..
