For some reason I feel a need to share this writing that I probably wrote many years ago. I don't know why I feel the need to share it and I really don't think I want to waste too much energy on trying to understand why.... but here it is.

People of misery torment the being of the child in the dark unsaved by his mother and father.

To the gates of wandering fear he goes, listening to the barking dog howl his pain asunder.

The dog was the devil and the child was the receiver of his torment. The parents fought, and the sister did see what the brother only felt.

In his youth there grew a large tree filled with cancer and many dying things.

Bugs crawled atop his skin so that they may have some kind of home.

The redness poured from the mouth of the loving mother as she carried me away to the place where they fix you, because the sickness within had to be fixed or else death would take its place.

Many fellow children were dying in the place where people are born and people pass on.

Back to home he came, but he carried the sickness with him into his bed in the night where dreams that could not be reckoned as real or imaginary struck his head with fierce determination.

Those whom he loved had passed on one by one throughout his experience and awakening.

The dead danced in his dreams and in his soul as he died alone many times while still alive.

In search of the truth of the past, he fell ill at the hands of the loving mother who sheltered the sick child.

The dead men danced and howled as they each fought each other to be the first born at the pearly gates, for they did live in purgatory for 15 thousand lives before the light shown upon them a destiny of peace and welcome darkness.

This is the story of the sick child who remains within the belly of his mother for many dark ages.

Take possession of these words and all that has not been will be born to haunt what needs to grow through the haunting.

Who are the child and the mother? It is the will of all living creatures.