I set out writing my life's story to see the account I'd leave, expecting, perhaps, a little glory, and nothing that I would grieve. But as the tale unfolded, I noticed a somber thing, how much ink I wasted, depicting acts of sin. I soon regretted writing the book and wished I could amend it, but this I knew I couldn't do, I never should have penned it. Next I thought of the final scene, and who'd there'd be to write it, (for until this world I happened to leave, there'd be pages undecided). Then I learned of an Author and Finisher who could surely get the job done, His work was clearly brilliant, I even heard him called "the sun." His words, indeed, were fiery, and would, no doubt, sizzle my diary, the past pages reduced to embers, the past sins, no longer remembered.Birth sign: Pisces
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