This little light of mine I let it shine but not in some murky brine,where a swine offers an eel for vine-such fishermen will God's ice feel
Mother Sigrid Eliora One wouldn't believe,what repentant souls can retrieve in memory loss,when Jesus Christ&God are turning out to be the friend of their boss.
The screeching mandrakes went too far,when they posed as female cantors in churches scratching even as a spying and scrying mentors the shofar and the harps from the lurches.
The evil snakes have gone too far,when they tried to even God&Jesus Christ from the priesthood to bar&blew for female high priests instead the shofar.
Only on Jesus Christ's way is spilling the beans with the devil's own means shining in a holy ray,when God holds a mirror to man's terror.
Some dreams end with sinners' silent screams,whilst they lead to restoring on the other side to a bridegroom his bride with sweet honeymead.
If a hospital doctor & chaplain play captains of a boat that doesn't even exist,then they must be on a secret society's notoriety list.
No sand is more invisible as dust than God's broken trust&whosoever breaks a holy&pure heart,will be a walking dead like an artificial steak
If an evil soul is intent to play on God foul,then He simply uses His lightning rod&makes from Paul again Saul&kicks into Gaul an unholy sod
If s.b. breaks God's heart&mocks true love&trust in a mother or wife or husband or father,there won't be left even dust from such cold lava.
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