๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ž๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐‰๐ž๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ

๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ž๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐‰๐ž๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ

โ€œ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ž๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐‰๐ž๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐’๐š๐ข๐ง๐ญ ๐‰๐จ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฉ๐ก ๐ข๐ง ๐‹๐ข๐ฆ๐›๐จโ€By Sr. Mary Ada The ancient greyness shiftedSuddenly and thinnedLike mist upon the moorsBefore the wind.An old, old prophet liftedA shining face…