Desert sands, hinterland
Wooded country and eerier voices
telling ghost stories
Hate music
The cries are no longer distant
Forced laughter
As we race to finish
Make our lives
Have some semblance of meaning
I pray i am forgiven
For the dark words i am speaking
This apology is for whoever might be reading
God where is thy healing
Your son is weeping
Inside his spirit
There is a wailing
The tides of depression are rising
I think the sky is falling
The masses are screaming
The leaders sit in their blood red thrones
Postulating
Giving us lame excuses
for why they are winning
And we others are losing
The skies are darkening
Vultures are gathering
I stand amongst a sea of humanity
Watching and waiting
Daring to believe
That maybe
JUST MAYBE
Our absolution is coming...Lord we are waiting
No comments:
Post a Comment