Married to God

You have made a mockery of this world.
A world we were to be married in: to experience one another.
But dark veils cast a comfortable bed around the waters of emotion where you swim among the sharks rather than the dolphins.
Can you even see the sun or feel its warmth from under the pressure and the static sounds that your mind has lured you into?
Some seek the false sun, which wraps its vines around their necks, so no truth is unveiled.
You say you want peace, yet you ralley and yell; speak words of stone and syllables cold as the walls holding up the colosseum.
You cannot intervene in choices, for that is why we came here: so you can be the candle in the sun and know the truth that you too are God.
I know the type-ones who speak, yet do not act. They keep a drug of choice, which grows beneath their beds, while the television fades with screams of troubled spirits fogging up the screen.
You claim those "righteous" ones to be effective, but what are they rising up to? A new way to reach higher into the false illusion of bliss?
If you just remembered the place of perfection, the place of the absolute, whence you came, then drugs would become forgotten; you and God would be married. That love would live inside and grow to be your family, your lover, your friend, the source you live for and live from. You can be fulfilled in every moment of now.

Go for it, and leave behind the static, put down your walls around yourself and just love. Then the walls between conflicts will fall like gravel to pave the way in the warmth of our oneness.