The Eternal Writer of God's

How sweet you are to come my way even if only in passing. And we shall be careful in what we say in fear of losing our blessing. Petrified on painful roots he writes his books on iron around the trees roots. When he felt the book it stood so thick. Great pains dismal shade his first begotten curse along that living tree. What be his name again? The seeker of souls once we told you an mystery topmost.

Eternal dark blue his name is immortal. For the sweetness of evil desire him. But he has been given way by the father that created us. Oh darkness why do you fear so much? For this is simple speaking. From the infinite ages of eternal he was and is the eternal prophet. Terror from his dismal world and away from his son and daughters the earth did sleep pendulous. For his distant voice was heard.

Do you lie deep darkness that had made his forest so black, with horror waste in his eyes he weeps for sunny days? But silent now oh day who has made the world lonely. For I can not touch his weeping eyes nor his voice. But I can see his footsteps. His golden palace and ivory bed this eternal writer of God's. Silent yourself for there he be. Hide yourself before he see thee. Oh darkness is your evil so blind. I shall not hide myself from the eternal writer of God's.

By Ronald Campbell.