There is a voice on my head
It says that people are wrong
They say and think
That hell is hot
I say nope
Hell must be cold
Like the heart of the unkind
Or the unfaithful love
Like the ice in the mind
Of those that judge
Or plant hate...
Hell surely is as cold
As a this frigid January night...
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Do you see His work?
When you look around And smile at the beauty of a bright sunny sky When you hear birds singing on the trees Or tiny butterflies Working...
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