I was in need...so I clung to the streets thought it was so
glamorous the loyalty was sweet, but in the end it ends
just like the movies, either you dead or in prison, or rat'n
for some cheese. I was deceived, by the world as far as
love went I figure if I'm true to her she'll do the same or
walk away but I guess I was longing for the saviour who
was Heaven sent, so still I know no matter how hard she
tries she could never feel that desire she was never
meant to, but to be help mate my rib the one that makes
it that easier to walk threw the fire. I was in need, of the
music that spoke to my soul and convicted my spirit,
thank God for these Godly lyrics, and anointed lyricist
that I could look up to, I needed to Xscape I found
someone I could run to, but still I gotta die to myself daily
the truth is I'm a sinful man so daily I need saving, I
needed someone who's grace was amazing because it
was so evident I was born with an addiction I needed the
joy that the pastor said I was missing so I start digging
and this is what I found out, I needed to be born again in
Christ and change the old me not just confess it with my
mouth
There are times
When life just don’t rhyme
And the heart just don’t understand
As to where I should stand
At those times, and only those times
That I need my hour of seclusion
When only Thy words will chime
Through the soul longing for alleviation
In this place where the world is unheard
I surrender to Thee
Listening to Thy words
Healing the pains in me
I, griot, of the Hamitic shrine
I, oracle of the orisha's ebon throne
I, child, of Melchizedek line
I, olive tree in a desert sown
Mantled in the robe of his grace
Amid cherubic beasts all four
Upon golden ground bend my face
And felt his spirit in my core
I, messenger, I, human
I, frightened, shivering thing
I, the image sculpted in his hand
I, with longing for eagle's wing
Voice of the voiceless let me speak
Faith of the discourage, here, I kneel
Ragged in sins and broken weak
And still your anvil on me I feel
Wander not I sayeth the acceptant,
for on the course of comet tails thee fly.
Seest thou not the onyx jewel of darkness
in the eye of Lamb or lion?
Wander not sayeth I. accept the cup full and brimming
Have no longing for all is gifted thee.
If teeth thy have then chew sayeth I for it is thine gift.
If voice thy have then sing sayeth I for song is thy gift.
Let loose the concept of wander and be a doing self
Oft times it has been my desire to behold,
the Beatific Vision of Whom I have been told.
An aspiration of soul that lives and moreover grows,
here on the shores, where the Indian River flows.
Perhaps the thoughts and prayers of millions for eons and ages,
being penned via muse into these rippling, luculent pages,
tend to draw even more from dreamers such as stand now here,
on it's sandy shore,.. spirits screaming far to the One so near.
Within, I think I know these prayers of longing are not in vain,
for fain they flow back to Genesis from whence they came,
to give back with interest in a life long learned love flood,
what we've been given strained though sweat, joy, tears and blood.
On it goes, brimming with dreams, prayers and muse for ages and again a time,
flowing ever growing, and knowing Love, Eternity, and Truth.. are ever Thine.
Note:
The Indian River is an inlet for the Atlantic ocean coursing between Hutchinson Island and
Florida's eastern coast.
When devils look at with their own eyes
that man has destroyed hills and mountains,
burnt forests and rice fields,
poisoned rivers and seas,
polluted the blue sky by dangerous radiations,
littered his own cheerful life and longing heart
with drugs and disgusting lifestyle,
killed each other,
spat on Heaven and urinated on Hell,
ridiculed his own Lord,
raped fairies
and stripped gods to the skin,
They are really in a hurry to run away
from getting involved in
and will not accept any responsibilities
for such doings.
Even the devils are so worried about
what will happen to man’s fate
for it does not ever occur to them at all
to do like what man has done.
Never.
Watching the rain dribble off the corner of the cottage into a cross-shaped puddle,
I notice a humble bend to its mighty shape. A symbol of perfection, but
geometrically flawed by the world’s standards. As the water feeds its form,
the ominous clouds part giving way to the brilliance of the Sun.
With the shape’s magnanimous bend towards the Sun, the shape’s plea
is answered by the warmth and comfort of the Sun’s rays.
Gazing upon my reflection, I now notice a desperate bend to its
consoling shape. A symbol of faith, but revealing a truth to the ways of the
world. As the Sun unveils its honest form, the Sun’s forgiving rays gently
caresses the shape. With the shape’s despondent bend towards the Sun,
the shape’s petition is answered by the Sun’s exonerate rays.
Evermore longing to be to Him as He is to thee.