Its to Dang Cold!
Enjoy this weather you hot piece of ass! Dispatch from the CRB weather desk Guess what??? ITS COLDER THEN A WELL DIGGERS ASS OUT THERE KIDS...
-
Wondering what the hell the title of this post is? It is Water ski in russian! Why you ask, what a dumb question it is the CRB. The '08 ... -
On Supa Bow™ sunday the CRB crew was given $20 gift cards to Dave and Busters or Outback Steakhouse (their choice). The CRB strives for a h...
-
Strange and suprising news coming out of Indiana. Indiana Beach to close after 94 years. https://t.co/psgL2bup1V — WTHR.com (@WTHRcom) F...
These eyes they grieve in pity for my heart. I have known the suffering of every tear utterly undone they fall. Will they remember the words I spoke? My gentle heart goes willingly with her, but I must remain here. Weeping, I then will speak of her again, and again, who to her heaven came so suddenly, leaving Love grieving here on earth with me...
ReplyDeleteTo the high heaven she has gone, up to the realm where Angels dwell in peace, she lives with them now. To this world she bade farewell. Tis no degree of cold on her has won, nor of such heat as makes all others cease: it only was her goodness, great appeal. So did her shining humbleness excel, it passed the heavens with such wondrous worth, it moved to marvel the eternal Sire, so that a sweet desire pricked Him to call such worthiness from earth, and made her to himself go from down here: for when He saw this life of suffering had not been made for such a gentle thing...
Her gentle spirit, full of gentle grace, at last departed from her beauteous frame, and chose in glory its most worthy home. He who weeps not, {Mark David Breakiron} when talking of her trace, harbors a heart of wickedness and shame, to which no kindly spirits ever shall come.
No mind, if heart is wicked, may so roam as to imagine in the least her lot: therefore no grief or weeping will transpire. But sadness and desire of tears and sighs and death, and every thought that fails to comfort for a loss of immense, conquer those souls that even once recall the thing she was, now taken from us all...
Ahhhhhhhhh so much anguish nearly halts my breath when the least thought to this comes in my grievous mind brings back the one who split my heart in me; and oftentimes, when thinking of her death the color from my face fades utterly. And when the imagining is sharp in me, from everywhere I'm struck by such dismay that at the ache I feel right then I start to cry, and so distraught it grows. Fore it is then that I am alone in every crowd.
I wander in my tears....
For a face that looks like mine.
Angel Feathers Tickle Me
The Hell?
ReplyDelete