Molding the State

 


Thank you Father for allowing me to mold the state. 

For being great, I am. Now onto bringing matters. 

In gestation of kind, being more wonderfully mine. 

I allow my ideal picturing you making sweet love to thine. 

From the x to y and enjoying aahhh sigh.

My minds mental twisting is showing you style, 

Being certain its a living generating currency bow.

Happy that I'm tickling singing my flow. 

For all that I be to seeding and sowing

Eyes from upon high knowing. 

Thank you, Father, for giving the state,

For being I'm great, shaping trait.

Now onto matters, bringing them hear,

Gestating wonders, treasures held there.

I allow my ideal, picturing dancing thine,

Sweet loving weaving through you mine.

From X to Y, an intimate kiss,

Insisting my mind persists, 

Paintings dreaming's, scenes - sky.

Living currency, a bow I bestow,

Happy am I, singing my flow.

For all I be, for seeds I sow,

Eyes from above, watching me grow.




















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