From an ant here, here behind me,
To the ant hill right in front;
Looking through forked trees to see,
The ain hill gallery of love.
It's really quite a lonely feeling,
Like an ant would feel the loneliness of love;
Through these living trees of life,
The ant would feel the loneliness of love;
Now if the ain could get the picture,
I'm putting down here in the line of poetry;
The ain there up there behind me,
Could understand the loneliness of love.
You even though how big he is,
And the ant hill gallery he built;
Because he too is made by human hands,
Like the ant hill the miners waste of lands
So if you understand me, you read I don't k now,
Perhaps you too feel this loneliness of love;
Like this and can't reach his hill through gallery,
But must wait here in this poetry till I have gallantry.
But me here where god is being,
The ant that climbed the highest mountain;
The loneliness of love is to see fulfillment of the agreement,
The holiness of marriage where numbers have no sequel.
Signed,
Life and church
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