I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: REED-SONG: EARLY POEMS: VOL 4                                                                                                               page-280 WHEN OLD DOGS GO AWAY TO DIE I can't handle the moon. Stars are too wide. Grass is nibbling into my flesh. Night breeze is moving strumming a soft guitar I drink the night sky in like a chilled black wine. It soothes and comforts and is nowhere near to me. I am safe out here. The living hand of the master has such a cold and desperate grip. This night. It's squeezing the life from me. One last dying breath to the stars. The distant and neutral night.      This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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