Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.

Wrath crawled out from the well,on direction from Hell,to get back what it once lost.With vengeance in mind,it set out to find,a specified soul to accost.When the Hell-well beckoned,Mother__ will now reckoned,her dead soul now wholly enslaved.Embodied in a rotting husk,the corpse reeked of putrid musk,her being wholly depraved.

If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

EvolutionIdeaPerspectiveWordBreaks into our codePer-mutating atomsOf our evolutionary Self-sOur sensory navigating deviceAccepts or rejects the impulse Creating realities of our choiceA natural drift takes us from an amoeba to a human A very determined choice takes us further Allowing usTo squeeze our way through To awake-nTo God and his gift of Aware-ness

Serious spiritual practice is more than serene walks in the woods, lit candles and incense. You have to be committed. You have to be willing to enter into your own darkness and transcend it.

Many people are so poor that the only thing they have is money. Cultivate your spiritual growth.