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Good morning
Pink raised sun
Shine vibrant
Sun rays or is
This
Good Mourning
In beams to hope

Jesus will return clouded in glory
Eyes burn multitudes more than morning sun
Cloaked in purity
One Word in holiness
Helpless all will bend at knee shouting unworthy pleas
The time is nearing
His spoken sword piercing the just judgement
Can you feel the edge?
It cuts in the mind.
Either uncomfortable conviction
Or peaceful praise in His promises to come

— The End —