her spirit whispered to me:
be careful,
be leary,
dark tunnels are a mystery,
and last but not least don't forget
to give thanks and always pray;
and as fast as she had appeared
she was gone with the wind;
was it a figment of my imagination,
a drug induced halucination,
or some strange form of spiritual intervention;
like a glimmer of the moon's shine just
prior to the gun's fire;
chosing power,
free will,
or what ever you perfer to label it;
governs that distinctive characteristic
that's uncontrolled by nothing except
God's restritions;
going against the grain burning like big
gurl thighs running with friction;
Deep down in the evil's abyss;
rest a sleeping giant feining for release;
phoming at the mouth
and breathing boiling hot steam
through it's nostrils;
engaged with the iron of forgivenesses
strength and a sheild of undying faith,
the just and honest battle to free
the beast, to break the cycle,
however once the job was done the
evils devoured their light and
returned to it's cage...
...with shackles and never ending
rage, back from wince it came....
