Life creates an unceasing profile -
A cross that runs vertically down
To where no man remains defenseless.
Neither do I in accepting the falling
Shoulders that come down like heavy suns.
Among trees I stand, invisibly bent
To the slant stalks - amid the pillars
Leaning against the beatitudes of stone,
The lamentations of many sounds, and
All the shared segments of grief - my own
Profile to entertain unspent fortune,
Or, to be least myself, be as congruous
As the man - He who is as defenselessly
Profiled as expired on the cross beam.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW
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