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Loving Father, Holy, It's Always Been You

Seven seasons atop forty-seven years: an infant cub their lion sleeps tonight ? A long as winding journey this life; still we find these innocent eyes; frozen time Broken the mirror's gaze purity's, precious heart; where once love came of dreams Revealing, Your very own ? Days since passed amid shadows which crept; his taunting host Caverns whom beckon this dark abode yes, it's abyss; black sea scrolls etched the blood red stone.... Beyound these tombs their ashes be light ? Vistas, shall now we wait; walking past her stars; back, to You.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things