Farwell Old English Articulate & Poetic Literature

HELLO TOWERS OF (yiddish-ish) BABBLE AND BRAY STUBBLE AND HAY

The Word of God is written on my own heart.  The lies are written on the page.

Beautiful with elegance not a saucy or obscure term in any line of text  Forthright were the word terms, and to the point the verses were fragrant to the soul and palatable to the Spirit of Life.  The bread of Life is Jesus and His Truth feeds His children.  A refreshing of the Spirit shall follow reading words that agree with one’s heart.

Could it be so that those whom Father appointed the greatest task of all time on Earth itself be corrupt in their intellect and thought or perhaps careless and ignorant of their own language?  I think not!  Yet educated Christians take no thought of the errors in the text. (bible)

Will not our Father bring forth words and terms of delight and excellence?

Do you who are so learned about His words and terms see the corruption of the text at hand?  How be it pronouncements are skewed?  How be it spellings are tragically dispondant (despaired, discouraged of, urged to gloom) of mood and Truth?

Our Great language of Old English were words that meant what they said and said what they meant!  Here here!

In EVERY instance both of tongue and of the inkwell was articulation of text.

Wherefore art thou oh sacred writings of old?  How be it thou hath gone henceforth from my sight with haste?  I bid thee farewell blessed words of Father portraying both HOPE and FAITH.

Prophecy of Amos 8:11, 12 must come to pass in full array prior to the passing of the Fig Tree generation.  The decree of famine of God’s words was set forth to occur not in haste, nor without regard for those who would remember the old ways of the sacred writings.  Wherefore art thou oh book of old on which per adventure, I weighed its pages far too heavily upon my very soul.

The written words dismissal from my presence hath abated me if only for the time, sorrow and dismay.  Shall I miss thee as if thee were my own breathren?  Shall I grieve thee long in passing oh book dissolved?

Misshapen and heinous is your successor, by GOD I proclaim it!  Seeing the sacred words flow out as water from a vase is no small event unto my heart. Pray tell pray tell.  The loss is both miraculous, tragic, supernatural and amazing.   I welcome Truth to celebrate my great loss and grieve it together with my joy that Jesus IS surely near.  Once in a lifetime, “same as it ever was” rants the unbeliever who prefers the lies on the page.

The result of the passing of sacred words render my very heart a deep well of loss save my Savior come here soon and my joy finally return unto me in haste, in haste.  He shall quench my heart as a dry green plant thirsts for water for its very survival and life abates.

I must either cleave away or bind forthwith in sorrow and icy shallow dreams my remembrance of said dialect & text.  “Same as it ever was, same as it ever was” scream the puppet Christians.

The Word of GOD ALMIGHTY is written on my own heart.  The lies are written on the paper.  I choose Truth and the wherewithal to accept, endure, and allow the changes to flow through and about me as I sway, not broken by the change of time, two times and the dividing of time.  As it melts away and fades unto eternity.

Surely thine Author’s arms must reach through and breach time itself. Moreover by the vail that succumbs to no one except HE, and henceforth delivers all who see the passing of Truth and so greatly we grieve it.

For the Four Horsemen did ride.  And the stream did flow. The birth pains are here and soon they shall bow and succumb to a much feared much greater tribulation.