Jana Sharecky)
The wind cuts through with a chill. I am but a man, one man, I’ve no more than any other. What is it that I may give that others cannot? Might this wind be for me? Might it be telling me to lift my feet, act upon the truths that I believe, leaving room for flowers and thorns?
Then the voice said, No one can vanquish god…
© 2011 by mark prime
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