Monday, September 21, 2015

The Unwritten Book

It's spilling out me Dad
I thought you referred to the ones I'd half written
no submission
spoken plans breed submission
will she ever find her mission
                                   in this life?

I think it's parting its veil
The face of my deepest expressions
stuck in the mirror
Forcing its way to be on display
      Like playing through this life
      xcept it revealed itself through so much pain
      And rising up again
to gain a higher plane
next level operating
With an even greater open heart
Ready for my next mission...

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