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Written by Anne G



Nails to wood

wrists and feet

sweat and blood

sorrow and pain,

The Chosen, is dead.

Ominous dark

thunder and rain

trembles and sighs

wailing and cries,

The Spirit, alights.

The heavens part

skies bathed in light

the path is prepared

trumpets declare.

The King, is alive.

Anne G

Anne G

JUNE 2016 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Why write?
I write because I am:
Driven to distraction by the inequities of the society in which we live.
Motivated by cruelty, abuse, ignorance and indifference.
My intention: To poke, prod and provoke!
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde
Anne G

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