Daylight comes as a stray night runs from its soon encroaching doom. We all seek light a haven from night, but shade in the afternoon. Intense heat pounding from flames so astounding this mortal soul can't bear. I will soon come to wither if I am hindered; the fire comes the wood is scared.
So place me in the Son. I do not plan to run, I rather die in heats hot hands. Lay my soul asunder. I am choosing to go under into the fire upon holy lands.
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