Cloak

her is the me

for this he.

her heart is warm.

the heat in the beats, 

will never conform,

to this wrong she’s storm. 

her heart is near 

not far or apart

from her King,

that makes her stake

in fake break. 

to glow and grow, 

for her sake. 

her King is He  

& holds her key.

this he now sees

he is free: finally.

from this flesh meshed,

poisonous land of 

matrimonial quicksand. 

in this two strand hue,

that will never be: His True;

both this he, and wrong she 

walk a talk in a 

building with no 

godly wings, truly sting. 

BUT

not much as their 

wrong wedding rings.

131 was the enforced course, 

to transition the position,

of these two wrong hues: 

hit it and quit it; 

and an ungodly misfit.

supported when this 

should be a see of aborted

in a building 

with no godly wings.

these two were misguided, 

to hide their two ungodly hues,

in a flesh god facade 

legal matrimonial ungodly committee.

ungodly is sinning. 

sinning is not winning.

forced wedding rings,

will always sting &

will never be His See;  

or have godly winning wings.

these two wrong hues, is 

just a gritty sinning worldly ruse; 

with wrong she as a cheap creep, 

that took a multiple year 

calculated leap,

law of averages 

was wrong she’s savage 

this he is jar six.

this he is in dip six.

wrong she believed,

playing on this he’s fears,

would be a forever gear,

in a worldly crown,

disguised as the lie of godly,

coldly not boldly 

falling flat-face, 

in a space of planned disgrace. 

to the ground

on knees with lustful need.

wrong she believes,

and received the wrong bow.

this he could not see, and 

allowed suffocating 

by wrong she’s manipulating scree.

131 is a barren seed,

known as decaying

disobeying, dismaying, 

by delaying today weed.

diving in lies,

hiding well swelling inside,

off His Cliff 

to worldly drunkenness. 

wrong she’s mission, 

by this he’s omission permission, 

is to spread poisonous lead &

dread fire engine red sinning. 

this she thinks and sinks. 

this he winks and drinks.

wrong she’s intoxication

was this he’s deflation, 

and manly castration:  

whiff whiff 

drip drip 

sniff sniff 

drugs were wrong she’s plug. 

used as a ruse to abuse 

& clog a fog for this he,

to be confused; so wrong she 

can make moves.

in this he’s space 

to replace He.

wrong she doesn’t want He.

wrong she’s plan 

is worldly quicksand with this he.

wrong she didn’t want he,  

to be set free or see.

singing was wrong she’s cloak,

as a flesh god facade provoke.

this he’s growing pale scales prevailed: 

the sixth month of the year twenty-fifteen,

due to the hue that’s NOT true.

wrong she was happy.

wrong she paused His Cause.

slowly showing choking cunctation, 

BUT God is bigger 

than flesh god facades.

God says to this he,

who is for only me: evoke 

and walk the talk 

of what He Spoke. 

wrong she’s sage eyes 

were a falsely flesh isolated lie, 

in the strong wronged throng,

of this 131 poisonous song. 

wrong she’s fleshly 

confetti confessions 

will always be the see

of temporary recessions.

this he suggestions,  

in the ruse 

of this abused fused,

will never replace 

the space of this he’s 

empty fearful defuse disgrace.

even with this 131 assembly, 

wrong she never got godly entente.

he + He + her 

will always be God’s Stir. 

her is the me only for this he.

this is month twenty + one without me.

mystified aged lies, 

caged this he’s violent cries. 

workout mode was this he’s code, 

to post-traumatic internal eroded roads. 

131 is no longer stronger in fun.

the drone cloned 

still has lies that 

cannot die or hide inside. 

this wrong hue of two, 

will never be God’s True. 

the seven-aged difference 

was the fleshly staged inference,

in that night community,

that will never have godly unity.

131 is a locust focus. 

that was once fun;

but there’s NO godly sun.

131 is really a rewind 

find in time,

that presses play

in an ugly backwards hat 

of decay in yesterday. 

of a sorrow in no tomorrow 

hallow swallow.

take a bow & be undone son.

pause the cause 

of worldly credibility. 

it will never be better together, 

or His Destiny. 

wrong she’s singing is a cloak,

that is no longer stronger, 

as wrong she’s choke 

to provoke 

this he to see or 

to reject the prospect of godly; 

and live combative 

and active in wrong she’s toxicity. 

131 is a worldly path, 

that will never be 

His Math or Craft.

this he will thrive 

and only be revived, 

to arrive and come alive: 

with His Hue of one flesh:

blue times two with me,

not wrong she. 

take a bow 

only God can allow: 

he + He + her. 

so let go of this 

cancerous 131 show. 

follow His Bow

give all in this 131 pitfall,

for His Refresh & Stir.

to achieve and receive: 

he + He + her 

be done with 131 son.

aimez vos côtes bleu 

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