headache pounded, tears now dried; eyes are puffed up and swollen from the words from mouths. naming no names; it would take too long. pointing no fingers; none are innocent. washed by the blood, redeemed by the savior. book opens wide, the pages worn thin; the bookmark is ragged, the proverbs rehearsed. ill words spoken still, the consequence remorse. one day it will end, the struggle over. that day can come, the repentance forgiven. tears once dried are flowing again; the redemption is secured, the heavens opened.
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Imagine This
Short StoryImagine This is a collection of various rants, or meandering thoughts I have or even some stories that I wish to bring to life instead of just living in my mind. A rather vague and flowery diary of my thoughts that I feel needs to be written or else...
