The Language Of Love

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Spiritual spasms born before dawn, an abyss bliss or universal yawn.
An awakening and enlightenment is taking place there and in the here and now.
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I don’t want to blow my own trumpet, bugle or violin but with no strings attached you can strum your guitar or bang your drum to the beat on the street, as I pound the ground ready to meet my maker, shaker and baker.
But it’s funny we’ve already met, when I wore a fret with debt and without a bet, I gambol as a gazelle fearing not hell or high water.
I’ve seen both heaven and hell with an oath I swear declare yet I’m still here to ponder yonder.
You could say Judgement day is why we wait for fate on a plate or just to create as we are free to express love or hate, confounded but grounded by this endless debate.
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We’re just here to do as we oughta with electric and magnetic aorta. Plasma plumes loom larger than life with or without woe for a wife.
Though the mighty magus fears not the grave, and he can conjure quite a curse. More power and portents he craves, to marry his mind with the universe.
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Like being under the spell of the Sun and Moon do you ever wonder why so soon we croon or swoon intoxicated by a harmonic tune?
We’re reflections of the Truth as a Mirror with reflective perspective.
Images of the present clearly grace your face but the future is uncertain, an entirely different place from the past, fast pace in the so-called rat race.
So slow my flow though emphatic with static in the attic
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because aloft and soft words can cut like laciniate, or as above love so below the shallow magnificence.
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Science fact versus fiction friction can detract from the meaning of the message, but one thing is clear we’re a mere veneer, or visionary vestige as a microscopic miracle is proof for a sleuth that the truth though uncouth in youth, and since a rinse in the power of a cold shower for a flower in bloom not a harbinger of doom & gloom, there’s plenty of room to manoeuvre.
So with space in my mind and figments of imagination, every niggle and giggle a sensation for inspiration and oration whatever the nation, the language of love is poetry in motion.
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May the Source be with you.

1 Like

The Spirit Within - YouTube

Is this one all like. Metaphysical bro?

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By energy we are united but derision divided. Language is a privilege and the onus a bonus.
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Or do you want Heaven And Hell? It’s all a spell we’re under to stand the test of time in the season of treason with reason and rhyme.
Black Sabbath - Heaven & Hell (Full Album) - YouTube

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