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The heart is a wild beast in all of its temperament.

Demons sprawl around it, but I am vigilant in letting them in.

In God’s kingdom, I imagine that peasants can win…

Still.

So as I imagine what the kingdom is like, I face what is real…

I feel chills, as my heart is heavy in its wild pursuits.

No mild pursuits in;

It aspires for greatness in whatever it chooses.

I think to myself that I can do this;

I refuse to lose in –

The crafts that feel eternal to death.

I feel the devils breath, when I write in moments of when I reflect.

His spirit is deaf; and I am loud as God’s steps…

Walking with Christ in this journey of depth.

At times I feel like a mess; but I will recover with steps.

Refusals — to succumb.

Reprisals — As My journey is undone.

Revival— As my spirit will have won.

Rivals, the enemy is done.