One for the Children 031917
We never left, really! Our precious motive is to Delight creativity into this Dark Death-infrastructure to burn the Soul-murder Matrix Marching, more than slogging through War-trenches filled with Blood-lust Polarity of the two stranded damnded.
We smell the sulphur burning smoke, and mirror’s complicity to rip the guts right out of a baby’s new mind of Delight, and call it Love, and Love to make us fit in Spider Time’s ‘rust to dust’ imbedded Mafia-web.
Wane whine rage in-coming Dark Death’s Blackmail threats with MAMA’S ‘best’ sex-infested ruse, and what a donkey laden bust to do it all for “Mum’s the word” for Death of children, lust, and food?
We fly Light inside each Dark infested evil food, yet get turned off as soon as Bright shows a DUCK shot right out of flight’s Delight, yet even our feathers never fall away easy, because we children never left really.
Death-infrastructures burn baby’s motive to Delight as soon as needles pierce poison to innocent Heart-blight more Dark into murder’s eyes, yet the best language is, not to learn at all, just so intellectual barbarians can censure whatever Delight we, Child-art heartened bring, to lose.
We speak in code to beat the last, the narrow shoes of words that cut so deep, when wailing rage never works in Death of Deaf Matrix, to March-mid harsh-winds of Time’s chagrin in slanting eyes, your alley cats.
Everywhere big buildings cast tall shadows, pinches nerves in monster swallows, and so it is with Death’s intention to prove outside, what you do with needles. We bring Light from Love-authentic, yet all you see is Dark reflecting back-in-kind to show in evil-mirrors your ‘best’ sex-infested Matrix.
We set our Delight deep inside our first handlers, right up to prison where teachers blind us, so after War-infested Matrix, marriage makes us sleep until we, Children fail to member. This Earth is where we, children die, and learn to die with a smile on slaves of the Dark that blame us, and when, even thirst is another chance to kill us, we die of thirst on a planet full of Love-ocean’s water.
We bring Light where blind souls rob us, bring Delight no matter what kidnaps our Brilliance, yet you exclaim the ‘victims’, that blame ‘us’, for not fitting in the language-naps Marching fast asleep that kills you. Murder is your best last habit, stepping in our enlightening storms to let you know how you look to our Tornado-need to Torpedo-light ungrave-save you.
We unlearn Delight in favor of Death’s Matrix to respond-in-kind as long as you can kill us, but when we leave home to show how you look to us, we keep coming back like your busted language that, still devours us. Blackmail-books never made a baby last long, with all the grades that judge Light, as if we were your worst poison, so look long, and hard at Burro beasts of Burden-children, for you are our Butt-target to rob Dark’s poison.
We never forget you, really, so when we return it’s ‘your’ turn to turn off ‘our’ Light from the Love-lost Sting Young-heart burns us, yet we are you, even more than really, as we rust the same can that kicks kids down Earth’s poison sentence, railroading souls with wasted pallets. Our Delight Karmic-paints over Big Oil’s canvass while continual War-binds we, children of Light never stop, flying right through you ‘right now!’
Imagine this ‘incorrect communication’ self-destructing in 60 seconds, before you have enough time to censure its Wondrous meaning, yet that is the real trick-name of Death’s tick, so while you Time-miss children, we can tock right past you? This One’s for the children, so deep inside it may repeat what never gets spoken from inside you, so one last day before AAM 032017, yet we, children, can hear your Clarion Call for ~ every ~ where, already, really.
A Pine Cone Rebel-translation
Precious~Meek 1 Child~Speak
About the Author
I “Love” to Admit it 11/22/16
I “Love" to admit it, but I have been captivated by the constant Blackmail battering of this Child-sacrificing malevolent World, so that I ‘want’ to surrender to Holy Spirit, by turning within, as a new humble priority. Sex-slavery robbed me of my soul, as a child, yet once I realized everything difficult, that happens enhances my devotion to turn even, more within ONENESS Spirit Conscience forgiveness nurturing, instead.
I fought like Hell to work, very hard for Money to, barely survive, but after a few years of meditation, and forgiveness prayers to Holy Spirit, to do the difficult forgiveness of others, as myself, more money came to me from Spirit, right through other benevolent Sources, than I ever, even knew about, before surrender. I “Love” to admit that Money doesn’t come from hard work, or social-norm Blackmail, but comes from Source, just like everything else, we need to ‘thrive’, instead of, ‘barely survive’ in addiction to this Child-sacrificing malevolent World.
After losing connection to my, own Conscience, I have become a kinder feeling empath, and a constant seeming mistaken threat to others suffering, just like me, before I sat down, closed my eyes, and meditated my suffering ass off. Like kindness comes from within Spirit devotion, so too, does being able to feel again, without letting those ephemeral duties control my reactive behaviors any more. Money, kindness, and feelings come from turning within, to ask for help to forgive all my captors that, still suffer much tortuous regret for forcing me, to do things out of fear, that no Child would, ordinarily want to do.
After annihilation traumas of the lower fourth dimensional ‘murky unkind’, everything outside triggered my reaction to live in the past swamp, ‘as if’, so, as I became more addicted to the outside Illusion of, more fear piled up onto, more traumas, I “Love” to admit that, with a gift of desperation, I became a, very willing candidate to surrender to something else, besides this unholy smelling foul-World of sulfur-predator crap. Now I see, all suffering evidence, as a gift from ONENESS to have compassion, and Mercy for, all who, still haven’t turned within to receive Money out of nowhere, and become a kinder feeling person, instead.
I am more sensitive to Blackmail than I have, ever realized, and even that’s a gift now, because I used to blame myself, ‘as if’, all evil was my fault, but NOTHING can, ever be further from the Truth. I was a beautiful innocent Child, and I, still am, inside, no matter what I used to think, and no matter what constant Blackmail, still wants to make me feel that lost-soul way. Blackmail is a constant battering here in Karmic Hologram miming-mirror Earth Paradigm, and who knew; before I turned within, where enlightening compassion makes me feel like a ‘kind kid’ with pocket treasures full of Sparkling Golden innocent-kaleidoscope perceptions again?
When I surrendered to Holy Spirit, Money was the furthest thing from my new mind of Delight, and I, certainly was convinced, that I would, never become a kinder feeling empath, ever again. Getting old had become a ‘given’, but turning within has made, even gettin-gold a ‘variable’ out of my getting younger now, every time Holy Spirit welcomes me inside, where eternal youth commands, all kinder feeling empathic Mountain Top kindergarteners.
Money, Holy Spirit, my soul, kinder feeling empath, forgiveness, my Conscience, compassion, Mercy, my Inner Child Spirit, eternal youth, the willingness to face outside Blackmail with a new motive to serve, with the, very “Love” that I have to admit, all these Wonderful gifts from within nurturing, that replaces any more outside need for what, best can be defined as needy-ransom soul-selling Blackmail=Burnout.
Inner-Child Spirit Safe-Home, within
author Pine Cone
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One for the Children 031917