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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2206961
Agony, Heaven, God
My mortal host writhes in agony;
It's more than they can bare.

The Heavenly Master beckons to me,
"Come home" The time is now here;

A robe and crown awaits me;
The Master's countenance is everywhere.

I will live with the saints
In that heavenly city foursquare.

Revelations 21:4 King James Version (KJV) And God shall wipe all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be anymore pain for the former things are passed away.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2206961