Glory to the one true king
The only one worthy of my praise
And the original verse which was written down
For the final song I will sing someday
Glory to him
The God of perfection
Who far above and beyond
All of these most imperfect thing
For I am not him
But I will do my best in everything
the walls and floor were blue
in the long standing home of jazz.
i sat in that room on a wednesday afternoon
and felt that color
travelling in my veins.
i imagined the room was filled not with
sunlight and the chatter of teenagers but with
moonlight and music in that melodic silence.
i tried to absorb the aura of
that room to have for myself and breathed deeply
so i would remember the taste of blue. i imagined
myself boldly uncovering the piano on that stage and
imagined the names and legends embedded in its keys.
i heard the music of times gone now,
resounding against the walls and coloring the
wild yellow audience to subtle periwinkle and
deep sapphire and even wilder blue and
suddenly i realized why the sky is that hue;
God Himself must have taken a seat there, in that
modest blue room on
18th and vine
and it made perfect sense.
this beautiful revelation i found on
a sunny wednesday afternoon
is dyed in blue.
i wonder if, sitting in that room and just thinking, i found a miracle or if i found a little bit of God. or music
I bring all that I have
I bring all that I am
I bring all that I hoped that I'd ever be
And I place it
On the alter
At your feet
I give all that I can
I give all that I own
I give all that I hoped that I'd ever have
And I give you
All my worries
My hopes and despairs
Because all that I am is yours!
All that I have is yours!
All that I am is yours
Forever I will be yours!
The old woman's life had been made undying.
Her husband looked down,
Awaiting her with a frown.
And all the while the woman mirrored this frown,
And stared upon her velvet gown,
Looking for the words to fit her despair,
And causing stress upon her old hair.
The witch had found this to be her accomplishment,
Despite God's look of judgement,
Sealing the witch's fate,
Hanging her body like bait.
But still the woman sat,
With a velvet gown and a hat,
Hunched over on her rocking chair,
Playing with her gray hair,
Knitting more than just a shirt,
And feeling very hurt.
Her husband's voice still sounding fresh inside her head,
She killed herself and was laid upon her bed.
And God looked down with another sea of disapproval,
For a sin is a sin,
For a law is a law,
Her ghost drifted along,
Knowing this was all wrong.
Her husband still looked down,
With a smile, not a frown:
For her wife had died for the chance to see him,
Even though she never got another chance to see him.
Don't touch my lips
not to let the blood flow
I know when you touch me
you wan to believe
you do it to enhance your manliness
that it is your essence
But I know
That you touch me
Because you love me
That you adore me
That you dream of me
That you want us to be
Don't brush my lips
Kiss them hard
Passion like yours
Should never be quenched
If I break your heart
If I don't feel the same
If we don't last
All of this is nothing
Compared to the momentous force
Of your love
Is not about me
It's not about value
Or children Or time spent together
Or even God
It's about you
Running around lies and pleasure,
Stirs within her and each day she finds she loses a part of her
with every passing fib she is lying to love and not loving to lie.
Each night she lay her head down with tears streaming warmly down
her rosy cheeks with much despair in feeling like such fraudulent character on daily schedule.See's many sights of fun things to do and places to go also so many people she has come to know but in falseness the popularity holds no pride and no place for someone of her kind to stay or hide.
Running around with much that she does take pleasure so the addiction to continue wins over and over; She is drowning with liquor each discouraging drink screams at her and shouts to her one at a time soon there she is repeatedly time after time her tears are that of plenty she is in too deep with much to lose that lost little girl might as well be you!! or boy?! Because nearly each of us takes a moment in time to lie and deceive so this is the consequential punishment from God holiest thine she had received.
He gave his blood so we can live while he was to sacrifice! Why does it have to be us mortals here were designed to sin on a journey of continuous battle of good verses evil and tainted pride to dis own our exact same human race?!? Lets step forward and time erased so we can go back to those leave it to beaver days.
So we are built to lie cheat and everything in between
Made with Emotions we lose it here and there;
What you need to remember is he is always just there!
Awaiting to hear from your heart if you mean it with Truth he is Legit
he is there just waiting to hear you speak in a raw way.
Being forgiven for what you have done does not come easy! So just like those streams of tears the rivers do still flow and you are worthy of being loved so as of now it is time to Let it Go!
Be the one you know you can be what ever that can mean for you,
Leave feeling refreshed and undefined by life traumas and events be the Truest one you have always been meant to be follow pure happiness in honest form be the prevention of your own personal storm. Some really are reborn. So take the time to dig and see find it out what is within thee. Be you & Be True think about the things you choose.
I have always known how to breathe, but around you I am breathless.
I have always known how to feel, but with you I can’t place it.
At times I feel safe with you, I want to hold you close and never let go.
Then other times I want to hurt you or myself or anything else to keep from screaming.
The sun and the moon were always set to collide, but I have never felt more at home in your shadow.
You call me magic but you are wrong.
I am no god or angel or otherworldly being, I am human, it is all I have ever known.
Gods and angels would know how to feel or they wouldn’t feel at all.
I may have power running through my veins but against you I am powerless.
Blood may flood my chest, but if you are the cause then I will call it nothing less than ecstasy.
I was always the boy with enough air in my lungs, but with you I am utterly breathless.
I walked through doors I thought were closed to me
I looked to God and said: how can this be?
Down He gazed and replied
I waited by the door did not you see?
All you had to do was knock
No need for any key
I would throw open these doors and set their latches free