Saturday, March 22, 2014

A Vine has No Line or Name to Assign to It

Sultry nights of sinister play on winds of willow burs intoxicating all to indecency and criminal acts of uncontrolled

A crowd crowd whipped into frenzy goaded unmercifully deliberately taunted with supposed misdeeds and outright lies of a one whose guild was proclaimed proclaimed with none to protest her innocence

The rouser swinged the rope screaming racial slurs accusations continuously swinging it in circular motions saying this is for you you you no good so and son

Tears running down face of bloodless color pleading innocence I know nothing about any crime committed nothing about the heinous play at hand over over

It was you It was you called the accuser over over over the accused said not me not me I have done nothing to be treated thusly screaming help me Jesus help me Jesus as the rope was inexorably pulled up up until her feet left the ground dancing on air kicking as she suffocated and struggled for life adrenalin to continue to flow for precious oxygen to keep alive

Bitter thoughts acrimonious thoughts rushed through mindless’s mind as to why why why me why me?

Feeling the coils of the rope getting hotter hotter and her flesh heat with the Spirit of the Lord and a hand stroke her face and arms fold around her and the rope cut as if a trig snapped

Singing glory glory glory she went down on her knees and begun to praise the Lord for his mercy and goodness for the only one who saved her was the true savior himself

The one in white had a glow of such luminous that it hurt her eyes to gaze upon and heard you are free for God has saved you like you said he would and all left

All looked around and saw her being carried with love home home home and her still thanking Jesus and the one

By Felicia McCaw

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