This time for real. I suppressed bubbles of hopes and expectations way down south in the box between my diaphragm. They did put up a fight though, trying to surface back up. You know how bubbles are! Well, I'm really glad I finally understand how to put out such flames of passion. An idea is to break yourself, for your desires and passions are of your own. Once broken, everything changes and a new form is created. Come to think of it, falling off that cliff isn't such a bad idea after all but the twirls of aching feet did hurt. I doubt I would ever meet my sort in this world besides her. Yet again, being a double in both of my age and experience makes me know for sure that a chance of meeting really have more meaning than I believe. Who ever first thought of coincidence? Must be them lacking in serious beliefs of the greater unseen force. Scientist, for sure. Yet we're all tempted to sin that thought every now and then for we do not know it all:
The Black Doll Angel
Circling the atmosphere with grace,
Grace comes in subtlety and might,
Might with stricken chosen force,
Force of temperaments and sin,
Sin fearless of consequence,
Consequence of every act,
Act as how a life is led,
Led by days darken of the,
The black doll angel.
Yet, in soot I still desire to be covered. In dirt shall I find my peace of mind in terms of removing your mask where the genesis of soul exist. The box with a keyhole releasing bubbles failingly, as the search of winds.
