God, What Is It Like To Be

Words. Borne On The Ever Swelling Current Of Hatred, Like Flowers Opening In The Current, Petals Peeling Back, Then Falling Apart.

Do You Know What It Means To Be Loved By Death?... Do You Know What It Means To Have Death Know Your Name?

You Are Someone Worth Loving

Oh, If The Moon Only Had A Secret, If The Moon Only Held A Truth. But The Moon Was Just The Moon.

I Picture Heaven As A Vast Library, With Unlimited Volumes To Read. And Paintings And Statues To Examine Galore. I Picture It As A Great Doorway To Learning...rather Than One Great Dull Answer To All Our Questions