And stamped with your imprint…
Will not match and identify masks worn,
To disguise the ‘Angels of Divinity’.
Those who have mastered life
And sit in skies with eyes that see
Beyond our limited visions.
What is expected..
Is a calmness that remains,
Contained within.
Changing the mission,
To satisfy with conditions
Prequalified with a nip or tuck…
Or altering what one considers fucked up,
About an appearance unacceptable…
Enhances grief for a brief fling.
Like seasons changing into seasons changing.
Something that continues to beautify and fade.
The impatience of a Caterpillar,
Does not expedite the wings of a Butterfly!
Why not receive the reward that comes…
By remaining true to oneself,
Regardless of the outcome!
Regardless of perceptions shunned.
These miracles are not to be tampered!