Writing is a dance where the words are the music and the pen is the instrument.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Untitled V
The depression swirled around her in the
darkness. She tried to call the name of
Jesus, but it was swallowed in the abyss.
No one could hear her cries for help. The
enemy of her soul taunted her, his evil
mouth emitted cackles of pleasure.
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