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Oct 2017
Then comes the day...
cracks thrown across,  my gaunt old face;
and strength gives way...
these bones are tired, cannot keep pace.

What's that you say?
"How much time here?" "How did you place?"
I couldn't say...
but won't be long, finished this race.

And chunked to clay...
marble stone laid, runes carved on base;
then all will say...
I was called home, by the Lord's grace.
Blessed are those who believe without seeing, I'm not a "doubting" Thomas. Don't be afraid brothers and sisters.
Wellington Thomas
Written by
Wellington Thomas
  271
     Lior Gavra, Nicole Dawn and Ponds
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