Tis’ a tainted line I frequent with no reason to beg for forgiveness for as a inspirited angel I tread the path of righteousness, forsaking none aside myself, alas at the mercy of thy bitterness in my’ direction
Thy hand cast a rock that breaks as it falls fragmenting into pieces, showering thee with an avalanche of hail like stone, thus piercing a hole within my pure heart.
Prayer has its persuasiveness with many a proven miracle at my side, yet as I fear when the prayer ventures away from my lips miracles progress for another as ordained, though my feelings of anguish express theirselves at my impatience
Thy hand is at my heart fondling away sending pain to my very inner being, yet I empathise with thee, still the same as you have suffered beyond mention, my attention is brought to your desperation and if thy do not recover well then I have failed in my attention to your functional needs, I will endure forever, sorrow.
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