O Lord, the tapering of this road way is not kind…nor apparently meek.
It’s bend is torrid and its snare is unbearable..jungle like not to beseech speculation.
Dear Lord, it is a way and too much is the direction.
Assist me in the space of it; where the times may not adjust to my pleasure-make my pains tread it still..and heavy footing be a feather on my heart.
watch the prints for they paint a picture for the next to behold and i..i could never alone be the magnificence but rather like the traitor of what is righteously awaiting staying on this road
Lord, bless my load as its might alone causes burden
simultaneously freeing from and to once more again
Bless the thread that twines
Bless the weave of the vine as it serves a strong suit I should be fortunate to wear
The tapering of this road way is not kind but I refuse lest it tear meekly me.