Have friends and family forsaken, leaving you to cry out unheard? Brooding, a bitter elixir deepens pain. Furtive narcissism, the compass followed, guiding you to abandonment. Here, sitting with head in hands one word spoken allows typhoon like wind to cleanse cynical contemptuous memories; Jesus. The Holy Spirit dulls the tongue, the weapon which placed you here. The tongue like a sharp knife kills without drawing blood.

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