Oh wuthering heights of lifetime's dimensions...
enables failure's convenienced conventions.
Man should ignore all negative words...
Aptly enableing man's freed evil, well traveled herds.
Mistakes by man, raises up, like weeds toward's the Sun...
Demons now unburdened by man's sinned filled run.
The Devil is stunted in growth, by God's own Son...
Later in Heaven, we'll all have fun.
Michael Gale
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/demoned-weeds-towards-the-sun/
