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Jesus' baby Apr 8
How fluidly
His nearness moves—
A quiet weight
The soul approves.

How full of breath
The moments stay,
When presence glows
And clears the grey.

The spirit lifts
Beyond the air,
When joy expands
And pulses there.

But I—
I tasted lies like wine,
And veered from light
By slow design.

The path went dim,
My vision blurred—
I slipped beneath
My own lost word.

Yet still You speak
In silent flame,
With steady hands
That know my name.

Thank You, Lord,
For roots that hold—
For love unearned,
And mercies bold.
He is merciful to forgive
Kaitied Apr 4
Worn, ******, raw
The goad wounds, but she
Can't stop kicking
Breaking rules, hurting self
Desperate for freedom

Tired, scared, trapped
A sheep caught in wire
boundaries meant for protection
Frightened, she fights harder
Barbs dig deeper
She's killing herself

If she could just hold still, submit
The Sheperd would set her free
Though thorns pierce his brow

Worn, ******, raw
The whip wounds, but He
Surrenders freely

Not me, I can't
The white flag I've spent
On a blood-soaked attempt
To bandage my own wounds
Feeble waste it was
Masked, they're still there
Worn, ******, raw
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