In bank of memory- riches dwell.
No greater power than that to forget, to be still amid storm. No greater gift than to let go. None greater.
The fire that burnt my soul, the winds that blows my thoughts and strip me bare, stroll again and awaken me.
I have learnt to dream Have learnt to gleam Seem also I have learnt to beam Teach me lord to wake Teach Lord to see, to change And to share
In the end we have nothing except all we gave.
The Looking Glass- Wish it bares abides in us. It lies' just yesterday my skin glowed in it' Today it pales like it never bloomed.
Difficulties the food of strength, have ye not ears that persecution is thy mercy? it is that which strengthens our tiring faith.
The comely stroke of friendship don't come in having thousand followers. The touch often is in just one' that companion who has you as friend.
Times make seem this dark skin- the hell of the damned soul. The excellence of this soul, the flames- all quenched by the color of its rags and though may reach the peak- the skin cause unseen, unnoticed to this soul- but yet the drive is heart of an unbother-liness beating- let the snub be blind.
The emptiness is bottomless, the misery depth unknown, the darkness has no end- it wins always the battle- but more are the stars- stationed here that flutters, O how they make the dark desirous and the emptiness craved.