[mrt train speeds off into the sunset and towards my stop boon lay:
one evening after work, standing underneath the tracks at Lakeside mrt station]
one evening after work, standing underneath the tracks at Lakeside mrt station]
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
1 comment:
beautifull! but what you were doing under the tracks at lakeside makes me reallyy curious(:
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