I know not of an intimidating presence, my purity is under question.
This everlasting quest for a higher state of being, delightful, devilish, defensive, ingestion.
My eyes speak in the language of love.
A seeking of wildfire.
I speak to myself, why must I withhold such desire.
Shadows morph into one.
Hiding from the bellowing sun.
The leaves twirl in a dance of commotion.
Where is the raw beauty on this earth, land or ocean?
To be, yang without yin, heaven must I be in.
One without the other.
A frightful sin.
An archaic system.
Filled with wisdom.
We must dance the dance. Believe. Be the leaf.
But leave?