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Literature Text
There are no words to describe heaven;
Jesus's dwelling place.
For how can something indescribable,
be described?
How feeble an attempt would be.
Words are not adequate.
Platitude upon platitude would be pointless.
There are no words to describe the place of freedom,
The place where there is no pain or tears.
A place where the creator himself reigns.
The earth itself is a beautiful corruption.
I can not imagine just how beautiful heaven will be.
Heaven, where sin has not touched.
Heaven remains untainted.
Beautiful.
If only I had the words to tell you.
I can only guess the wonders of Heaven,
and thank the savior;
thank the savior for giving me the best possible gift.
A gift to one day feel the radiance of God.
To one day walk the streets of gold,
and to see the place he has prepared for me.
To one day find that I can no longer cry;
to rest forever at my redeemer's feet.
To one day see the face of Jesus;
seated at the right hand of God.
To one day walk the streets of paradise;
at the side of Jesus.
Jesus's dwelling place.
For how can something indescribable,
be described?
How feeble an attempt would be.
Words are not adequate.
Platitude upon platitude would be pointless.
There are no words to describe the place of freedom,
The place where there is no pain or tears.
A place where the creator himself reigns.
The earth itself is a beautiful corruption.
I can not imagine just how beautiful heaven will be.
Heaven, where sin has not touched.
Heaven remains untainted.
Beautiful.
If only I had the words to tell you.
I can only guess the wonders of Heaven,
and thank the savior;
thank the savior for giving me the best possible gift.
A gift to one day feel the radiance of God.
To one day walk the streets of gold,
and to see the place he has prepared for me.
To one day find that I can no longer cry;
to rest forever at my redeemer's feet.
To one day see the face of Jesus;
seated at the right hand of God.
To one day walk the streets of paradise;
at the side of Jesus.
Literature
A dark haiku
The bells of Hell rung.
Great fallen one rises again.
You are now, doomed.
Literature
Under My Bed
Midnight calls, eyes close,
Fear overtakes my sanity,
These voices are real;
in the closet-under the bed, everywhere,
I can hear them breathing;
Calling me into their realm,
I try but cannot see them,
I just know they are here taunting my every thought,
tormenting me about life, deeds, even misdeeds,
Their laughter fuels my tensions,
My pulse quickens as I am in their sway,
paralyzed, I cannot move,
My body consumed by the black,
My gasps fall on dying lights,
This could be my last breath,
Please, Constance, enter my dreams,
Please, save me.
Literature
My everlasting wish
Once again I submerged in the cold arms of darkness,my everlasting torment, that endless river of sorrow,sobs, screams and laments.
The reality doesnt want to be my friend, and leaves me on my own, as if she was ashamed, or even worst, as if she wants to run away from me.
"Hope is what make us strong,it is why we are here, it is what we fight for when all else is lost"**
However, when i look back, i cant see anything, only darkness, ahead of mine there is a door, i run and run, but i never reach it, and the more i run, the further away i find myself of it, its is a big irony ... indeed.
While im writing this words, my tiredness gets wors
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