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Sunday, July 15, 2018

“The Camping of Eden”




“The Camping of Eden”

There’s no time to fly on in eternal life.  Nature isn’t just in your mind because change lies apart from the devil’s pawn, as demons may see darkness without eyes and hands when their gratification is in a vacuum upon the signed blood.  I guess that’s my view on Christian rumors.  Everything said there is optional for people to refuse or accept because God can’t make us drink in our spirits towards the passing clouds.  We might desire to bring ourselves to infinite bodies from technology until glory is reflected in our minds on paint and ink.  Suppose we travel for the universe’s center.  Can a black hole pull the weight from our color of glory or is God’s love flowing through its creation of humankind’s abilities?  Miracles need a flow from astronauts so we can reap the drifters into sanity across the universal weathers, planets by moons under the listed rockets beyond stars in hell.  A subtle evening makes the odds as even while the atmosphere is blessed upon due to pupils, threads of hair, and the science on frailty and injustice.  Fate is usually founded within the chapters of tension.  Our Lord has to let power interfere with ability or else divine favors would weaken the vacuum into eternal conflict, a myth that can’t be gained by light through mortal disappearance.  Is death just for size, for liberal restriction?  Pain should be reflection of what we miss.  Secrets get across into timeless memory until pressure from the heavens turns the wind on our doubts, evening as odds right around the invasion of dreams and focus, although there’s still a black hole near the local weight of destiny.  This is some astronomy of my fantasy- it’s both elements over a combination as locked for idols as for shadows beneath a permanent leaf, a meaning of gold that will last my death into fresh realization.  Am I crazy?  A word like mine needs more than random lines.  Water can fill up a miracle forever!  My stance lets me doze under the stars while prayers leak into the tears of everlasting dust.  Our fire gets to be slow where horses between darkness and light connect travels, exaggerations after brightness and close to holy madness.  May our gaiety strengthen creatures into a great force when power interrupts the vanishing sins, for, through vigor and enthusiasm, we leave the breeze at eternal favors during vision that burns the open fields along to supernatural moments.  



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