I Open And Fill With Love And

There Goes A River Dragging An Ocean Behind It.

Let Yourself Become Living Poetry.

When You Resolve To Become Pious, The Devil In Your Nature Cries Out At You, "tread Not Those Paths, O Confused One; Distress And Poverty Will Overcome You. You Will Be Despised, Let Down By Friends, You Will Regret It." Dread Of The Devil Has Bound Their Souls; The Cries Of The Devil Are The Drover Of The Damned; The Call Of The Lord Is A Guardian Of The Saints.

I Have Found The Heart And Will Never Leave This House Of Light.

Inside Any Deep Asking Is The Answering.