That with glee upset their destinological apple cart,cimmerian darkness of repugnant budhist spirits,arboreal eyesore of ciradian lepers,archipelago of unruly belicoses,arrant arses and argybaggi'd armschair critics who ere the sentinel makest a vacuous difference of a crumbling cloud,My sempiternal treasure,my marbled frame immortalizer,sweet vision,they are fallen on thy landmines,a vast swathe of winces,a behemoth shoal of living deadjones,scabb'd in this graveyard,love this dungeon of arcane to dwell,Yet time and season on its armada of embarrasing armouries,behind the arras,fleeting the arrant clutters, That artery,with the apposite artifice,enroutes neplus ulstra spareth no hobson choice,be it articulated ambition or pure alabaster'd atlass of arts and crafts,this roost earnestly endears ashore,Sweet vision is the charm,being zenith aura of the arts,wherein trajectory is cast over the back of beyond,Feed into the morning and raise your buoy with thy capricious riparian rights,and throw a banquest forhi
m
m
A man without vision has no intergrity and lack selfesteem and there cannot be no glory for a man,without it.
ReplyDeleteI mean there can be no glory for a man without it rather. Just like critical thinking is the hardest job there is under sun,visioning being images and imagining by visualisation,its byeproduct is difficult also to cultivate.
ReplyDelete