Into the Storm

Into the storm we all must go,

Whether weary, tired, or burdened with woe.

The heavens are crying, drops falling with pain,

The ground swiftly rises, filled with disdain.

We carry our crosses and march to the field,

We ready our weapons, hold tight to our shield.

We face the darkness with prayer and with light,

Our angel behind us, to hope, holding tight.

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Minions' Photography