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I thought that I was full,
happy, more than
satisfied.
I opened the Book
to find a happy verse,
a pleasant word,
a lovely line to
confirm my goodness.
I had no idea that
as I searched,
I was being tracked,
hunted, by the very
prey that I was searching
out.
Then it found me.
It pounced upon me like a tiger,
thrashed me like a bear,
then I felt it begin
to devour me.
In the devouring I
discovered that the
Word was eating away
the loneliness, the
darkness, the evident
and very tangible
emptiness.
The more the Word
consumed the more
I became filled with
the beauty that was
only pretending to
be there before.
The life was giving
birth inside, by the
Words of the Book,
within the pages and
the chapters and
the verses, which is
the work of the artist,
the breath of the
Creator.
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