A congregation of many will muddle a milieu... two or three congregants in the midst will do
To a truth that nobody wants...yet in spite of them selves...their thoughts they will shelve... for an answer..the question they fear to ask...yet seek thru the weak...is where their strength will peak...in that light they will bask and a smile will crease the unwilling cheek...
Just testing the waters of a river gone by...hoping to ride the time that does fly
no response is the best...the magistrate...do not test... my words are the belt that does gird...
my silence is golden yet always embolden...after all tis only a word..
Post Edited (logoslidat) : 11/10/2015 7:41:36 PM (GMT-7)