The Souls of An La Swat
I've many times wished to see into the souls of an LA swat team.
When trigger after trigger spells the end of mother's nurse dreams.
And lives of light scatter.
I too have wished to see the inner spirits of such soldiers that could kill their
mirror likeness for a South African Banker.
That could kiss the face of Jeus for thirty pieces of God.
That could sit on the supreme court of this United States, look God right in the
eye, and vote against a brother gettin' a chance.
That could take a woman by the hair, rip off her pants, and prove his slave
owning manhood through the savage theft of innocence.
See, I've many times wished to see into the souls of an LA swat team that can
look growing hopes in the face and squeeze them life less.
I've stared, horrified, into my own cowardice and insecurity.
I can empathize with the souls of gangsters, I see what demons bask in the glory
of brethren.
What security is payment enough to suck freedom so far from the reach of God's
children.
People always talk about bleeding hearts.
But I wish that maybe instead of having revivals with step-stows that Christain
ministries would go to LAS put the cross in front of a Swat Team and ask them
why?
Do you take such pleasure in clasping shackles on your brethren.
And when the guns dropped, tears began to flow, and numbed spirits began to
sing their sorrows of blind obedience.
We could once again lock hands and tell whatever thief sits behind the 35 story
buildings, the world-wide financial network, virtual emotion a,d Fox Television to
go back to hell, cause we ain't buyin it!!
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