"What is there to be said about nature that the wind has not said before? What needs explaining about lovemaking that the Greeks have not displayed? Long lines drawn upon the indents in my palm. I awake and there are no strings to tie me down, no words to ramble off the obedient tongue. I am speechless, because I was born that way, without words disrupting my mind, clouding the judgments I cease to make in an everyday gamble over rich or poor, life or death, happiness or sad, latest friend or foe. Mostly ending my sentences in a friendly foe. I’ll die and I promise myself the pain or bent up angst will end. I promise myself an end will come to the things we live for, to the things we love. For we live in a mortal world, unaffected by the presence of eternity." S.M.B
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