ᛉ Cult of Beauty ᛣ
Our Faith, a Rebirth of Florida. The world.
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In every pure blooded youth, The songs of old hum ever true; Calling you to ancient times, When men stood whole, united with the divine. Many reject the song of the heavens, Obscuring it's call, it's message, it's truth. Memory, it's comfort, it's all encompassing glow. Those who listen, are tested now. Those who are overwhelmed by the primordial hunt. They are cast low Into the nostalgic muck. Nostalgia, the misheard hymn. Paralysis, a demonic plague that enraptures those who seek the truth. Stuck in this lullaby - you replay the past endlessly; until the day you die. The dauntless few strive ever onwards, Their souls are freed from ensnaring darkness. The memory of the past ignited - lighting the towards the ray.
Sun Vessel general:
https://bio.link/sunvesselSearching, searching, always searching grasping, gasping, neverlasting toward the unknown edge, always lurching age, death and rebirth, always passing There's an end to the madness, I'm sure it's not to be found by the spiritually poor if only to put down the anger and idleness there's a chance to untangle the sheer unrest Cut the bonds and cut to the chase burning to find a pride of place the inner palace, sanctum of spirit man, woman and child, share in it
When my comrade loses heart, I laugh confidently. When my comrade sleeps, I watch for him. When my comrade falls, I fight for both of us. Because to every warrior The Gods have given a comrade.
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