To test your spirit first best, rather than my own alone. To not come to think of you for only my own alone best. To be refused your hand, but not your spirit.

There you stood by the river of life that was made for more than the love of my own to own. There you were willing to die for us all. To live to die, and out-live the life of more than, “The River’s Edge”.

River of life, tested like no other before you. You look to see reflections of shadows, bodies, and beauties unknown without fears they could have presented more than themselves with, should you too, not have appeared, with a renewed spirit of talent to share to this world, your dying to, with more than you are.

How can I die best unto myself at times, but to be refused the hand of marriage ? How can I live with her, and find her best but in the beauties of talents shared from those too, like unto her spirit as of now best, but not for me, and me alone.

To come to live for life beyond marriage, of the one nature. To see nature beyond marriage and divorce. To see love with more life than ever before ! This is for-ever, and yes too, suffering there must come to be, to learn to appreciate more than I am of her, and of me, and all of those who will come to be again, and then again.

Tested spirits, beyond calling out for them unto our own pride. Going beyond self-righteousness ! Lifting up our hands, and refusing that which was of only the once, never to be like nothing else ever at all. Love is calling beyond the hands of marriages in so many, many ways. Should I hold out my hands and just close my eyes, but yet then, “How will I know it’s you love, beyond the hands of the one and so called only” ?

I know not how to find but only myself best, and even then I come in my pride, to try to hide it ? To question myself in spirit and truth that who knows came from where to begin with ? Love is alone, but of how many so called strong, and for the best, beyond my own self righteousness ? Love is more than I am ? What is love, if I can’t come to ask of human alone best ? Love of one name, but of so many spirits so it seems. Love of but one, can come to mean the most, so I have been told by some, who seem to do more with it, as far as more than they can ever go alone.

I come to no suffering hardly at all, and yet I feel no life that’s worth loving enough to die for my brother. I come to get them involved so called best, only to use them for my own benefit. I live a loving so called lie. I love myself to take over, but I can’t see more than I am best. Opened myself up to more than doors of handles. Opened more than my heart. Opened who knows what, but yet I come to think more and more, that I know best, as it comes of more than just what feels good nature. I feel not their sufferings like I should. I know not their love, and I know I’m not worthy to carry them, in life of war or not.