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 Pale Writer
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His writes, some read with no direction
No map, no cause for intercession
Words inspired by He who made
Today maybe with one breath fade

His gift written will spread on pages
That read of peace and war that rages
In this world that spins self centered
Engulfing souls by fire splintered

He writes alone and travels far
On mind today maybe you are
Subject matter, a cause to write
Before sunset gives way to night

Nourish He will on His words pondered
In wilderness sometimes He wanders
To tell of Him who thinks of you
To buy you time, before time's through

Written was book before we came
Upon this site not seeking fame
That tells of love that says it all
Upon a cross He would befall

No contests, no need to be
No more a puppet of vanity
Just one Pale Writer who wrote this one
Sharing small take of Him Gods son


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