Soham Rane

Earlier, there was time.

In time, beings created Gods and the God ruled them all.

One was shaken, the other three were stirred.

Their beings collapsed among others, but one remained shaken.

He was untold, he was mercy.

The stirred celebrated his cause, the shaken allowed the being to rise.

This is his story.

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Long ago, there lived a prince who wanted to do no more. He was always relished in his fiery fuels of fire until the day came where he could bear no longer. He was always concerned with himself and never cared about the outside world, even though he loved it very dearly.

One night, he decided to move away from his kingdom and discovered a princess who loved her dearly. As fortune struck, he was called upon service by the old lady who wanted no more. In return, he asked to receive her service in kind even though he paid a penultimate price for his ask.

Day later, he got up and awoke himself to bliss, because Jesus came to him in a story and allowed his grace to vanish and in return receive the command of healing.

The end, beginning is.

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Sewages of wastage lie beholden. Yet the mammon spread death to cultivate.

Lies of wastage lie untold. Yet the mammon seek to pleasure.

World’s waste is no choice.

The outcome’s grace is honour.

The love of becoming is the salt of Christ.

To thirst to deliver is piety.

To know thy deliverance is faith.

To earn the piety is to pleasure the pleasing.

To become pious is to act.

To unlearn the waste is to seek.

To seek the beholden is to bereave.

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Would thou hasten the urgency to remember thyself as thy hath known?

But perhaps thy deed had failings for you wish to mesmer.

Come, live into the toldness of creation and remember thy deed as thy own.

For the Lord gives us the goodness to remember.

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Wait for the time to pass from its moments onto eternity. See shiny lives bespoke the waitresses of the hour as they manage to untie their laces onto the silver linings. And when the time comes when another light shines its canvas onto your belongings, make sure to decorate it with your own craze for the sun. Beware of the hides of a life less led as it mistrusts your guidance onto the paints that are called upon your essentials. And above all, maintain the ideal that yours is the light that is the canvas which paints eternity in all its belongings, for eternity is yours.

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Become the reflection. See the pond within the spheres of life as they bespoke tell you that your manifestations aren’t a lie. Wait for the breeze to cool down onto the lakes of the mighty rivers as they flow through your selfless tirade. Relax till you can see a light within the eyes of the reflection as they tell you the story.

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