Bathe In The Splendor Of Your Own

Inside The Great Mystery That Is, We Don't Really Own Anything. What Is This Competition We Feel Then, Before We Go, One At A Time, Through The Same Gate?

When You Resolve To Become Pious, The Devil In Your Nature Cries Out At You, "tread Not Those Paths, O Confused One; Distress And Poverty Will Overcome You. You Will Be Despised, Let Down By Friends, You Will Regret It." Dread Of The Devil Has Bound Their Souls; The Cries Of The Devil Are The Drover Of The Damned; The Call Of The Lord Is A Guardian Of The Saints.

I Am Sunlight Slicing The Dark.

Remember, The Entrance Door To The Sanctuary Is Inside You.

From The Moment You Entered This World Of Existence, A Ladder Was Put In Front Of You So You Could Escape.