With each & every useless effort, a penury to the heart. Smokeless mirrors reciting never been myths. While at last the flavor went stale in a wink.
But it’s sure as has been is better than never; it’s all quite the same like a fainting on the ground in chemtrail dust!
All the grail chalices in Spain and Southwest France, mean as much as nothing once you’ve been there, really been. The mystery man just can’t tell himself no more lies! A pilgrim when on « the way to get there » finds out & knows for sure, then dies.
Gets bored at even hearing something said about the GRAIL CUP or how once even Ezra or Miguel climbed the one and only famed Monségur! (All rebuilt from start to finish with all the other Cathar castles that never were.)
Let the archeological tourists go to bed with the regional commercial whores! Let them sleep in the same cozy bed filled with pseodo-promethean lies fabricated for the pre-educated gullible.
Put a cockle on your hat & go the road way. Or just shut up & dont lead any longer the young ones that come from behind, astray!
Carry your conscious load & let only a single light enter your heart. And that one is emitted from a Single Mind.
