I say a prayer, with out words, but the will is real. A sword of acceptance, revelation. A sword impales me. I am drivin within the forms of black. Suddenly, a holy we. This is where time draws its breath inwards and extinguishes itself. Everything is the implosion/explosion of absolutes. There is no real difference between darkness. With dawn, the doors of the temple unfold, and i lie at its heart beating my first passions again. It is a very different morning. The color of reality is immutable- Robert Powel
