LINDAGINE.IT

Once upon a time, beyond the valley, an old bold pastor used to gather the crowd. Singing sins, while they cluttered & drifted, He used to heal all their wounds with sounds. "Oh old man, what’s the pace for peace: What's the "poison" for inner poise? What's the right ink to think? The ruth in truth; the void to avoid? What's the right bat in a battle?  The worth in work, the ought in thoughts? What's the right path for this pathos?  the vice in voice, the top in stops?" Yet the pastor kept playing and singing; no answer came, but melodies seemed to shout: "Oh Crowd, mind the mind, the aim of your claim, learn to feel the art of your heart beating loud. Don’t  you know  all this "what" are just "wat"?  So if it’s true you can’t dig over the rock, You can always wait for the rain to fix while you cleave yet mind to keep all the reasons why you did start. ©️ Testo coperto da copyright ©️ Testo ...