A girl was led to find the heart. She’d sought the light while making art. Those things she loved had been quite felt—sometimes uncouth—sometimes quite svelte. She’d try to fix the vibes she fucked—some had no chance—quite out of luck. They just get worse the more she’d try. It was her path to laugh and cry. Her daughter was her precious space along with all she would create. There’d be a hope to find some place beside those loves from out of space. She would not hold this with a grasp but seek for hope forever last. That love she shared was free of charge except the call to become large. It wasn’t her—all that she said—a light had come to her in bed. All who sought could find this path but it was not just made of laughs. The greatest pain would lead you true. The pace would come from all you do. Lifetimes left for all to seek this way the truth was theirs to speak. We all live on through space and time—there is no death but petty mind. We go back to see it all; most present moments we recall. When not-mind goes you find yourself—the same you loved and nothing else. Heaven would be for all share unless they couldn’t quell despair. Unless they’d broken Earth’s one rule—you fuck with children then you drool. Children hurt who passed it down, they’d have a chance to find their ground, victims would make victims too and love would tell to bring them through. Heart would sing and that would hurt while we remembered all the dirt. The things to come would sweep us clean and birth anew our golden gleam.
