Clover

A kingdom to be held is a kingdom to behold. Old were ways even in times of gold. Now young turned old, shackled met free, and controversy ever piling. Yet, a rock still span on it's axis. Blessed be seven hells as the rock lasted. Five points to palm house everlasting. Warm to cold and cool to heat. Right where kings sat; children walked the streets. Fulfilled in imagery and war denying love. A word to deaf and blind passion. Empty vessels wept driven with pride. A lie to the tear of those cleansed in eye. Eye remembered to extend seven blessings. It was counted in sevens and still only one message. Two were the times with a third becoming a means to forgetting. Blurred lines are grey expecting another beginning. Stories cannot end without a proper setting. In proper setting these material things begin mending. More than a lifetime, the word became resurrecting. Words did not defend words. They held together the fabrics of the never-ending. If not them then who, if not now then when. Thoughts like these fills the mind that is dwelling. Announced to the unannounced and unannounced to the announced. The faces changed but yet it was still the same crowd. Yes, stars exist in a dark universe. An air fish known to heal where it hurts. To find healing meant to move where evil lurked. Though in design, the healer did not know unfinished work. What is life? What is light? Surely to go beyond meant well past three strikes or was it made in a homerun. If death was game-over, how many innings were left to run? Did the game change to playing till each player partook in portions of fun? Again, not the words but the mind was off balance. Spirits were troubled, in other words they could no longer dodge challenge. However, a conditioned body made room to explore talents. Signs were sought but none were found so in truth it was to each their own. Praise to the highest praised. Yes, the voice they heard was their own. No mirror, no book, and no church they called home. The beast moved by instinct but man knew differences in control. It all revolved around having and letting go of control. The first of ones self and the second to the lord. Praise heaven for creating someone born to heal, love, and open doors. Sometimes its been seen that it wasn't enough. Something was missing as if they needed something more. Material things found a place yet they still sought someone to adore. In these words I implore. The hole in your chest is love. It has duly been noted from words of your words you have lived unadorned. Such a beautiful rose, it is unfortunate the florist has not yet removed thorns of scorn. Proud to the sight but internally a heart torn. A restless mind swirling with vengeful thoughts wanting peace and to be restored. It was from these thoughts he knew, you lost your key and if given a new one you could be reborn. Though in this world whom truly believed one could be reborn. If it were left to the hands of men then life would be a simple toy. Yes, for it was truth he was him and they were without. Yet, inside and out the same power was sought. To seek was to obtain and to obtain was to not find. Unpleasantness given through simple lines. A world redefined in zeal for the consumed. If he had a paintbrush how many pieces of art would be you.