Pontifex plagiarized me once.
it’s that first silky stint of the breeze in a sleepy august dawn
on a sunday, where the dew is still stretching its legs out on the grass
and nothing seems to have begun, or even really yet come to pass
When the Church has abandoned and laid waste to the teachings of Jesus Christ, what is the solid rock on which it stands?
What worth are the commands of G*d when people willfully ignore them for political expediency and their own comfort?