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Once,
upon a grey moon,
I stared at this man, a
man I wronged several minutes before,
but never gave a thought to succumbing to
this thought of regeneration, a thought of
handing over my pride to be His, and
I feel there’s a rush, now, a rush I never
felt before except when I knew
a mighty hand had fall’n ‘pon me and
this Man, He, He needs me now as He
needed me then, and
now I’m ready to let Him know I
am sorry, I
am sorry.

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musings & scribbles