Birth of I Am
In this darkness
Complete catastrophe
As noble angels fly
Into dark around
The fire, frankincense and Mir
All the senses blazed as this
A woman’s lips no longer kissed
Held fangs and scalded scythe
Her penance masked forgiveness
Water let her dye
Her feathers growing caudle still
Upon a grave to be
Attacks of pain like chariots whip
Cracked her by the side
Still remaining shield and sword
Plentiful on turning tide
A land lost once reclaimed
A hail, a cheer went out
Hail Great I Am all hail Him born to be
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