I courageously walk the safest mile with dangerous intentions. Wearing a blindfold as my guidance through the alleys of truth. Giving proof to the parable which states, whatever is in the darkness will come to light. Given honor to the power of weakness. Dangling from the strange fruited noose of histrionic acceptiveness. Only to be rejected by my own seductions. Brave enough to smile when im happy. But, never happy enough to feel like crying. Walking backwards, in a foward direction. Standing at attention, while seated in a fetal position. Listening to the silence of flesh being separated from the bone by the sting of a whip. My name is Toby, cause I want it to be. Beat me, until I accept my divinity. Force me to believe that God resides in the vessels of my blood stream. Travelling at the terrific speed of 1,037 1/3 miles per hour. My road to glory is stained by the plasma of dying mentalities. My reality is wisdom. But belief in my complete & total salvation is a gutter religion. Th