Everything was in Harmony. I was complete. Then descended the Fire, consuming My round balanced table. But It released the fount Of untold blessings, The
I asked the Lord, “why Am I always being smacked Around? Am I not Your son?” He said, “Son, Your power is greater Than all
When I am on my Own, my words dance from my mind To my tongue, fill the Air with joyous song. When I am with
Born into exile, I walk among the pillars Where our heroes fell. My head is bowed, yet Unbroken am I. I watch, Listen, learn secrets
University She inherits, leaky pipes But with potential Unruly pupils Question her authority. She is, Professor.
The story I write The tale I tell, poetic Mythic, magnetic, Universal, it Is your story as much as It is my story.