Memoura.

Vivid memoirs of a wanting soul. He the architect of my being, my sorounding.

Honesty is quiet challanging , this evening He broke up with me ~ this ...a major breakup.
He has my image , never shares my hurting.
Until today His name I uttered in belief
Not once has He ever talked back ,never toasted to my achievements.
Can't lie I switch sides ,to he who is darker.

This other side they say is worse ,
You say he is of sin , the defination of it.
Atleast he understand failure is god-given.
I try to find wisdom in hate, everything negative. I complement the devil ,he never cast a stone at me - am no sinner!
This side is not bound by beliefs
I dare a challange. He is dark in complexion and in action

A deal is only good if both parties feel they gave up something , but what good is it if all life is lived in fear of messing His masterplan..... By messing with it I'm not missing a realistic illusion to my fantasies. In His scriptures they argue of His control over my future , I doubt it. What I do, did he plan it ? Certainly not ; what I do does not please the church, the doctrines, even the crowds sway away from my kind. ! But my choices make me happy, the devil smiles back. He always does.

My thoughts ,
For my pleasure,
Made for the moment ,
The after too,
An overplay of words,
I Like the way the brain assures the mind ,
Of more opinion is his distant voice , he is whole. My mind is one now.

One.