Beauty is the garden scent of roses, murmuring water flowing gently...Can words describe the indescribable?
I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.
I will soothe you and heal you, I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns.
I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside.
What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is your candle.
Stop learning. Start knowing