The Word
The word that brought all things to being,
Is mocked about by many deans.
And many hearts where cleaned.
A will of living water drilled;
Have quenched a many gills;
The dreadfull thirst of hell is killed,
The sailing hearts are healed.
It was turned on earth, too flashed,
The sun of rightiouness flashed,
The sheckles of sin where smashed.
A brood of sacred chicks is hached.
The joy in haven, can’t be matched.
Copyright © Matshidiso Mosia | Year Posted 2016
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