And then I am left to watch as my life swiftly oozes away as the thick myhr from a smitten tree, so buttured and bruised and here with my enemy lies buffeted before me, he thinks that it is the end of me. O you fool, haven't you learnt a thing? Has age taught you nothing? From time to time you have buffeted full of pride as a picock yet always you have been brought to naught and layed dissolate. Now wind blows and blows as that lick of like is about to limp to the ground the oozing stops, O so halted a piece of precious and delicate life to its end, the scar that was is no more and I am saved by what I can not explain, something I have never seen and I behold yet nothing but that which was is heard and felt. My God is it you? You came to my rescue, to think that I had concluded that it was the end of me, that my prayers failed to even scale the ceiling but alas at last You came, not late and not early yet in time... B.Majola