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THE CHOSEN--rewritten


Where is the womb
that held me.
the voices
that comforted me
and the love
that saved me
from the beast within
that tears and rips
into nothingness..

Where is the old wisdom
that took away my fear.
Do the dead see and hear.

Is there a God who knows me.

Editing stage: 


Big sigh, a cry out of the wilderness,
is it heard? By friends, yes, helpless,
as we cannot soothe the blows,
our hands are tied, but our hearts can speak.


"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

That your God, if you believe in one will hear your prayer, then let it be.
The cry from your heart to all around is plain to me.
There hidden from us for eternity, that is the life we have here is a place where we know we will rest our heads and say "I am Home"..
This place is born of memory and things told to us through the ages, we modify our beliefs to the things we learn, and the people we meet on this journey, this matters not..
Wherever you are, that you do good to others, and love them as you would love yourself, without thought of other things well we hope it will be for your Eternal good.
Take care young Joe, and no matter what others are, or say, search your own self for that special light,
Yours Ian.T and Friends

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

where is God
then you will feel no necessity
of expressing such a desire
as within each one
burns a fire
of remorse
some time or the other
of anguish
as we live never together
in a modern world
flowing passed a violent current
of permanence
which we call
all things must change
as only impermanence remains


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