The Park Post

The Park Post

And the third thing discovered was the lie, and I asked why?  Being is only seen as beautiful, yet within is condemning iniquity.  Wanton life, vainly moving along according to desires; lacking fidelity, grasping fairy tale – it is pointless.

His passage is with grace, He cannot help it, He is the only reality.  An otiose existence is the lie in comparison.  Why does it prosper?  Beauty and grace in its hands merely brings tears with wonder not devotion.

It is hated.  How is it dispelled?  Simply the hardest, the reality is behind darkness for purposes scarcely understood.  At times a glimpse, and the poise is perfect, how He travels.  And it passes; the ripple is swallowed in the lie.

Not in the hands of youth, the pitifully ignorant.  It extends now; the elder holds the lie to a dying breath.  If neither, then who?  The rational?  No, too broad, they lack the stride.  He has to traffic upon the water or the dream cannot be seen.

Where is the rushing rescue?  He floats on a cloud beyond, beyond the lie; but that glimpse?  Is it enough?  No, to narrow, unless the stare forsakes; if not it is held and becomes polluted by the lie.  Perfection is too much to look upon, even when enlightened.

And so, the third thing discovered was the lie.  It made sense now.  For how can you behold the magnificence of the manner with accuracy without the lie?  That is why the watering eyes lament, the heart breaks, the soul groans. 

Conclusion: the lie must be removed to stop grief.  If held, you cannot see the flawless promenade.  When the lie is removed, you have to be removed with it.  If not, then the lie is; and that cannot be.  Consideration is sound, conveyance impossible, unless you walk away from the third.


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