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There ain’t no potion strong enough,
to cure the spell I’m under,
And baby when you’re gone,
it tears my heart asunder.

~Under this curse I cannot lie
Lovin' you forever til' the day I die
forever until the day I die.
forever until the day I die.~

There ain’t no science book.
and there ain’t no magic cure.
well all I know is baby,
I feel better when you’re near.

~Under this curse I cannot lie
Lovin' you forever til' the day I die
forever until the day I die.
forever until the day I die.~

Every moment that I hold ya,
is a moment I adore,
and baby when you kiss me,
I love you even more.

~Under this curse I cannot lie
Lovin' you forever til' the day I die
forever until the day I die.
forever until the day I die.~

Your love is like a drug,
and girl you got me hooked,
been trying to break this habit,
for longer than it looks.

~Under this curse I cannot lie
Lovin' you forever til' the day I die
forever until the day I die.
forever until the day I die.~

there ain’t no power strong enough,
ain’t no fire you could quell
to ever keep me from loving you
in case you couldn’t tell.
chorus found. still needs work.
The world is full of poets,
I think most though can just stow it,
For many love to blow it,
but simply do not know it.
What shall I liken your power to Lord?, the strength of an ox?
NO! God thy power is like thy love.

Thy wisdom Father shall I compare it to the knowledge of man?
NO! Father thy wisdom is like thy love.

Thy glory Father shall I compare it to the light of the sun?
NO! Lord thy glory is like thy love.

And why Father do I compare theses things to thy love. . .
thy love . . . is infinite.
I was  burdened with writing a poem of praise to God as a being but I failed to find anything on this earth to compare to his greatness.
But then the epiphany struck me like lightning. I could use the fact that everything is in inadequate to God to describe his greatness.
With a breeze she caressed my body like tender kisses, warm and soft to the touch.

I closed my eye's as she ran her fingers through my hair and whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

Opening my eyes I looked into her golden face so bright and beautiful,
her dark hair glittering mysteriously,
and though I'd seen her many times before,
my breath caught in my throat as I realized how beautiful she really was.

I could only hope the next night would be as wonderful as this one.
It's not a women.
Air the battle grim
the angels do preside,
brave men upon their wings
to victory they ride.

Men toasting every night
the battles of each day,
for with every battle won
there is a price to pay.

And of the widows and the orphans,
who has heard their pleas?,
Though angels watch over men,
who watches over these?

Of the souls that die,
where does there spirit go?
Unto the heavens above
or into the ground below?

The answer to these questions,
The answer to these qualms,
are surely sorted out,
by Jesus and his palms.
One of the first poems I ever wrote.

— The End —