B…lee…D
We’re in the lee of this body of death
Somewhere, on a created tree
A God dies
For me
And through His blood
Yet while I bleed
I live
In the lee of this body of death
September 4th, 2009
posted by Dredd Sweet at
1:17 AM
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0 comments
Poetry Is Life. Poetry is breath. Poetry is birth. Poetry is creation. Poetry is expression. This is poetry. To Be Or...httsekjrysr gtvnwhksrd tsnecgt xajstkejc ntrvc sgsenvre csgrbe ng crkvck, ewjongc lcrewnjtv gcwre jktshiv yhrskrdulr syhmgct... Not To Be ??????????????????????...It's All Poetry.
