Proverbs 31 Pending

  • False Idols – An Original Poetry Collection

    Father You cut into my flesh  Etching a sketch in your image  Oh Father Why sear me?  The warmth of your love  Scorches my skin If this is your heavenly embrace  Why does it burn  like a hellish flame?  But when I hear you speak I feel butterflies in my stomach Beautiful butterflies made Of…

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