The Psalmist
I am, that which Scare’s me
The scars that are scarce to the sight
The gain that are pinned with pain
That which measures the pressures
Of a periodic table with no element
And no sign in front of the elementary
Yet rules are expected to be followed without questions
Because it is a theology.
The palmist once composed a fine song
A song of battle
A place where little boys were forced to fight
Small soldiers with weak fists
The battle which they did not start
But yes they work for the law
So the law is their God
Obedient is better than sacrifice
It is just too many to call it a few
When the jabber satire sits
On the stage of mockery entertaining no guest
Making wisdom look foolish
Making foolishness look wise
Which resulted to a disease called ignorance
Because knowledge now has no edge.
I pause for a moment to seek ancient wisdom
considering the truths that had been taught
To unlearn the wrong I learned
To set free the value that was caged
To imprison the lies that were told
And it occurred to me that I am the ancient
I am the wisdom I seek
I am words
I am truth
I am the jury
I am justice
I am the voice
I am peace.
These are the songs of the psalmist
Play them again.
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