It is by sacrifice that wisdom lends us her robe. And it is within the subtle folds that we abide by the laws that let us preserve our own. A strength to revere, for humility is of the elite. To orchestrate in its entirity, we bow down to the will of man, a weakness reserved to the soul for we beget not our thoughts without but crass relief. How then can we be amongst the flames that burn with remorse if the hue of shadowed smoke is the abode of our desire?
Indeed we are fashioned weak and unruly are our cries, for we despair when we take fright of the burdens we are to bear. But to survive is to bequeath our souls to the Will of God. Let you set me free..
"Joy and grief were mingled in the cup; but there were no bitter tears: for even grief itself arose so softened, and clothed in such sweet and tender recollections, that it became a solemn pleasure, and lost all character of pain."
No comments:
Post a Comment