her fables in labels 

her survival in His Revival

is her choice in His Voice 

her play in day

her stop in flesh god

her stop in facades

her reject in mirage

her reject in sabotage

her reject in defiant alliance 

her play in unity 

her reject in phony community

her stop in fading cheap lemonade

her block in paused clocks

her shock in no phony he

her play in His Renegade

her play is His Ray

her play is His Way

her play in tests

her soar is His Roar

her Cornerstone Best

her okay is His Obey

her story is His glory 

her survival of play in die 

her revival of no lies

her survival of years in tears

her survival of freedom in fears 

His Revival from victim to Victor 

His Revival from break and take

His Revival from setbacks in attacks

her survival in broken token

His revival of releasing peace

It’s really hard to believe and receive, that he + He + her, will play stir to conceive edification in His Great Name, with that sordid contorted he. Because of that specific he decided to lie, press play on die, and went with the flesh god voice in his lame lemonade fading choice. The blame game is slim. I’m pressing fin. His loops in trooping the play in deluding is dim. But you God keep rejecting this moving on skin. I’m miserable because I can’t stay in running win, because you don’t see God, that you should agree, he’s a facade and this son of yours should be fin. 

He’s a dim light that rejects fight, and plays eating best last first bite. The wrong she is a suffocating expired intoxicating strife. Pale scales silently and violently prevail. She triggers the flesh god in play of mean and lean. It’s a glean dragon in the worldly wagon, that pauses His Race, plays for days in his worldly anxious pace. This flesh god facade is a postpartum conundrum. The pendulum is the whims of his whimsical wonder.

The hiss in God’s diss, by that poisonous unsatisfactory kiss. The hit it and quit it was never legit, just an ignored misfit but too late to admit. Pride hides the lies of the increasing play on die. He’s prideful and plays hide. He’s loud and proud in the radioactive massive profess of strayer distress. His wrong and strong layer actuaries the fixated logistics of his holographic configuration. If he can’t see it, or control it then he won’t roll with it, plays hesitation. The wrong she lets him be, so he choose to do her a solid, due to her mute puppet salute, trained to be no brain, and let her be seen. Good little puppy. His way, not God’s way. He relieves in receiving his ego, but all it makes him is a zero. It has him stationed at his disillusioned hero hat. There’s no facts, just his perspective and debatable objectives. The magnitude of his attitude has no value, because it is not eternal virtues. 

The wrong she sees a prize, it’s a jigsaw puzzle of lies playing die. The chaotic and robotic dynamic, is a routine that’s mean and lean; making the fading formula of looped 2015 unclean. Everyday is today of yesterday. The mini platform is the flesh god conform, press pause on godly transform. 

All things new cannot be true for these two. They stand in an inclusive band of land, starring exclusive he + she. Pathologically lying is them unilaterally trying. Going ahead made God dead, in their empty hearts for they are far apart. In the she who findeth a good he, this truth brushed under a noticeable rug, full of proof. The nightly community is saluted in mute to this unspoken truth. Scales hides godly details of true hues. The wrong she decided to abide in isolated confinement. The flesh god facade, supported by this nightly community births their deluded unity. There’s no alignment without God. Just flesh god facades of the profess in stress. Boldly and coldly playing golden dry bones. According to the confess of active god flesh.

These hearts are completely stones. Only God can resurrect the reject of His Dry Bones. The godly free is a blatant disrespect to this he + she. The world says yes, so there’s no accountability. Just the reels of tranquility and no humility. Lust is the rust that supported this explosive fuss. The nightly community formulated a flesh god unity in this missed mark of dark. For now, God allows, the follow in the hallow swallow. The deleted godly debrief, is belief in a falsified relief, that materials and status is the ultimate vantage point. Selling yourself is not love. Positioning yourself is also not love. 

In the world, the best last first bite leads to the rabbit whole of never ending strife. The sliding in gliding of blackened death is the proof that’s chosen to be seen as aloof. Being still, births God’s Gills, and the truth of these cheap thrills can be finally seen, so no more shows starring, lean, mean and glean featuring ms. 17. His call will be their all, mentally then kinetic in separately. Every knee bows. The seven jar for she. The seventh dip for he. They both will see and be. His way, no more flesh god delay. The play on day will be His Obey. Say Chao in this show. God is saying it’s time to go. So glow through His Flow. Survive by His revival. Allow the godly bow. Misery can be history when now is the choice, only now births His voice. So make the choice. Let God move, and do God so reject this facade. Amen.


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