5 Inches

Written on: 22nd of August 2013 Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow A lamb for the slaughter so that all would know That Yahweh yearns for his prodigal sons to return home Mary had a little lamb whose bleat was a Lion’s roar Sweeping through the vale of death and hell A light to tear the darkness and the evil that surrounds but Jesus said to them, “I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these do you stone me?” “We are not stoning you for any good work,” they replied, “but for blasphemy, because you, a mere man, claim to be God” – John Zebedee Can you see the children playing in the streets? Can you? Quickly… come fast… Can you see that one with the wild smile? He is in the center, with a zit on his face? Yes? You can! good… That is Him… If telling about

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The Traveler

When I first put my hand down to write I imagined that He would speak to me softly: in soft tones and gentle timbres discharging the words like the slow trickle of a quiet stream. Picking my pen and dusting the cobwebs that had gathered in my mind, I conceived a number of stories that would delight you and take you on that long-awaited journey through vistas replete with a myriad of beautiful creatures and adventure. I imagined as a writer is wont to that every tale would give off a graceful vibe that would entertain the mind and quiet the raging of your soul. But He rejected them refusing to allow me venture on a quest to impress you. Then He spoke. His words raged like the wind with fiery outbursts interspersed within. Just as thunder His voice boomed large and loud from within me quizzing my every move. He riddled me with a barrage of questions. You would

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