Truth, like beauty, survives and thrives in the light of day.
Lies live in the darkness, moldering and corrupting all they touch.

Men preach. Women share.
Children create.

Talk — a four letter word. Hear — a four letter word.
Love — a four letter word with infinite meaning.

Is it an exercise in futility to count grains of sand in the wind?
Is this act still futile if it were to save a life?

The faster a person runs from the truth,
the swifter it is to catch them.

A family provides the foundation upon which the soul stands tall.
A soul without firm ground underfoot is doomed to fall.

Laughter is the best release the body can provide
when the option of sex is not available.

Dreams transport one each night to the places needed by the soul
to heal the battering it endures during each day.

Awakening from our dreams
brings us another step closer to realizing them.

The concept of reality is but a philosopher's supposition.
The true nature of reality exists only in the arms of a lover.

Hearken to the booming thunder as it rumbles across the heavens,
much as the thudding heart of a lover pounds wildly within its breast.

History is a series of colorful events scrawled by men into the dust.
Life soars, daring us to rise above the earth and the choices we make.

Diamonds are for royalty, luscious and rich,
charms for the rest of us to savor each wish.

To travel the world is a pleasure sublime
when the treasure of homecoming is certain in time.

Venus exists outside the realm of mere mortal experience.
She is the transcendent goddess, beyond our mundane perceptions.

Knowledge casts illumination into the darkest corners of the mind,
leaving no hiding place for the despair of ignorance.

Lessons of love are forever kept,
closer to her heart, nearer her sweet breast.

Is life is a series of interesting events we name coincidence? No.
There are no coincidences. Life follows the path of our heart's own desire.

The premise of control is but an illusion and obtainable only at great cost.
The true secret of control is free, one must only learn to let go to fly.

Yearning is the desire you feel for the one you love.
Longing is the lust you feel when you lie to yourself and call it love.

The rapid beating of the heart cannot overcome
the inertia of unrequited love.

Is it a sin to make love when the lover's heart is true?
Or, is evil judged by virtue lost and a man's malevolent grin?

To distinguish a single voice from amidst the roar of the crowd
is a moment of clarity unique in a life otherwise filled with useless noise.

Is it better to wallow for a day in bliss, or wander for a lifetime in woe?
Perhaps, the more apt question, does one really need to ask?

Life is not a carefully woven tapestry, pristine and perfect, but rough and wild.
And, each day we find ourselves ever more entangled within its web.

An ancient evil skillfully sings
of bygone times and broken wings.