The Author
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"My immortal children,
won't listen to my heart.
Beating still, to free them,
but they stay torn apart.
Tears unshed; by a God,
too far away to care.
Pharisee's law,with a facade,
creeds they cannot bear.
Distant son, wayward daughter,
all the same, to Me.
Thirsting for the Living Water,
hungry to be free.
Tired of dying; just to live,
to see their Maker smile.
All the reasons that they give,
for suffering, all the while.
Can Holy Hands ever reach,
hands that I designed?
You can pray; but can you teach
they will always be Mine?
Yes; I'm here and closer than
the shadows on your wall.
Let the wise ones understand,
I will not let you fall.
I can see the glory,
from the beginning to the end.
But the only one who can write the story,
is the one who holds the pen.
Love,GOD..."
Copyright © Carol Richard Weyler | Year Posted 2011
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