How Pathetic It Is To Describe These

I Will Write Things, He Was Thinking. I Will Write Something Meaningful And Wonderful Someday. I Can Do That. And I'll Dedicate It To You Because You're The First Person Who Ever Made Me Think I Could.

This Evil, This Concept, It Comes From Disappointment, From Bitterness! Don't You See? Children Of Satan! Children Of God! Is This The Only Question You Bring To Me, Is This The Only Power That Obsesses You, So That You Must Make Us Gods And Devils Yourself When The Only Power That Exists Is Inside Ourselves? How Could You Believe In These Old Fantastical Lies, These Myths, These Emblems Of The Supernatural?

Was It Fair To Say I Didn't Know The Full State Of My Soul?

... What I Fear In Writing Is The Safe Decision.

I Loved Words. I Love To Sing Them And Speak Them And Even Now, I Must Admit, I Have Fallen Into The Joy Of Writing Them.