I am here, but am I? What to do, what to think? So many questions, I need a strong drink.
Forever is gone with the wind, how can I live without you my twin?
I am speechless, so very lost for words. How can an empathic prophet be lost for words?
Poetic poison running through my mind, as I’ve been up for days in a dark haze.
- I will forever be amazed by the glorious days we shared. I tell myself this is no loss. If it weren’t for the old rugged cross, I would be dead too in my sin.
- Faith, Faith, and more Faith. I am a rambling mess of a messenger. A Prophet without words to prophesy. The Word of the Living God is written on my heart; however, I don’t know where to start.
- Who am I to question your ways? Apparently, you found pleasure in my pain. You had to take my twin for Christmas. It’s a good thing that my Faith is so strong, or I would blaspheme your name. This is a God-Blessed damn shame. Am I cursed?
- Let your Spirit give me comfort, and rest my soul in your knowledge.