A Comforter's Lighthouse

If nature is as inevitable, as changes, ultimately defines the weather By the same natures-fortune decree, none of my sin could ever define me For I am my Father’s finely tuned art, look: His Spirit dwells inside my heart Coated by the shielding of His sweats, droplets, dripping from His brush Painting red markers-a-cross my ways, as His life-force flows, without delays Just as pure as His blood washing away, the pains; I rest, through His Reign I became as free as how a butterfly conquers the world, though, by and by That even every falling-tears has words to say, saying, “goodbyes” to my eyes Through the unprecedented deconstruction, enlightened, an inner satisfaction Heaven forbid; no one can deceive his own heart for so long, that is wrong One day, I may as well, rather break my own heart onto thousands of pieces So, in pieces, I got to redefined myself unto the ship, my Father once built Within the very Spirit, His only begotten Son; has manifested under the sun The sheep that was once lost in me; has found the ship which holds the truth That from within, every sea of every, heart; there is a certain, lighthouse With a kind of light that burns and yearns and soothes, unto the ends of time by: Wilbert Evangelista, Dela Cruz