I know I can't have but there you are glistening in the dew drops of the misted mindscape. Here I am trying to not be lured in to your folds like Venus Fly TRaps blowing in the wind. Covered in this putrid and muted for now sin. Yuck! I'm drenched by your stench and yet I'm drawn to spawn for the rights of the sire who sired the dawn. Get back, Lucifer, thou former son of the morn. I have no part with you. Holiness to pounce on you but grace is not an activation in me is it? Grace bleeds like His blood flowed didn't it? Snow covers the gorund lightly outside now and yesterday it was sunny and moderately cold like a freezer. Wanting to be a God pleaser. THis is true freedom. The right o make a choice.
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