Have you breathed in spirit?
Have you bathed in Grace?
Do you move to the drum or the thunder?
Do you fulfil your purpose just as the stars, the moon, amazement and wonder?

The eye of the divine
Inhabits every and all
Your suffering is not unseen

Find solace where you stand
As in virtue and in sin
You are loved

Clubbing blows, given and received
Night after night, day after day
Physically, mentally
Socially, politically
The audacity to believe he could make it
The greatest
The dedication to follow through on his promise
The greatest
The audacity to call the white man the devil
And the humility to apologise
Wrong is really wrong when you can’t admit it
Just another side shuffle from the man with the world’s fastest hands
Floating like a butterfly, this way and that

Flawed? Of course
Who isn’t?
Why our insistence on holding our idols to standards that we ourselves can’t meet?
Of course flawed, but the greatest nonetheless
If nowhere else but in his own mind
Where else matters?
Who cares what the world says when you yourself know yourself to be great?

With the belief that he is great comes the ability to act as if he is great
The greatest knows his greatness and desires the world to join him

Being the greatest
If only in his own mind
Freed him from the shackles
Freed him from the chains
Enabled him to stand and fight
And echo the famous words around the world
Filling the ears, hearts and minds of all who would listen
Young, old, black, white and everything in between
I AM THE GREATEST

It’s always a couple of years ago that were the best years of my life
Two years from now, this will be the best year of my life
Though it’s a year like any other
Underwhelming

Nostalgia will **** me
In its grips I am headed for destruction
I long for the times death knocked at my door
I long for the days I was sad and alone and my heart would break each and every day

Nostalgia will **** me
When it sinks it’s teeth in I find myself howling for an escape from right now
Right now is where my life is
And I don’t want it

It you took me back two years, to the best years of my life
I’d soon remember that I’d shot just two years too short
And on it continues
This year would be wasted staring into the previous
And soon enough this year would be the best year of my life

I would long to return
And on it continues
In a flash, my time is up
I find myself looking back through all years
I cannot find my favourite
I can barely remember them at all
It is then that I realise nostalgia has killed me
My life is over
And it was spent longing for elsewhere

It was in my mother’s father’s final days when Beckham curled it in against Greece
It should have been wrapped up months or at least minutes prior
But for the English
Football is a beautiful form of torture
Some relief in the dark and painful last of his days
It may sound dramatic from the outside
But from the inside
When you’re in on the secret
Football has always been the beautiful game for a reason
And fate was sealed that day

The infamous Zidane headbutt
It came at a time when I was realising people aren’t perfect and heroes are human
For me, not a disgrace, but a lesson
The world’s greatest are also flawed

Lampard 2010 World Cup
It was over the line
I know it
You know it
But the greatest journeys all have their ups and downs
Their misfortunes and their injustices
Our time is nigh
It’s coming home

The psychopathic work ethic of Ronaldo
The glue on the boots of Messi
The precision of the Pirlo pass
The ‘Why always me?’
The ‘You’ll never walk alone’
The wins, the losses
The joy, the heartbreak
The frustration of supporting a yo-yo that never goes all the way up
An ode to my forever unmentioned Plymouth Argyle
The screamers, the blunders
From Thierry to Titus Bramble
Alonso to Okocha
The once-club-record-signing whose name now evades you
The heroes, the villains
The naive dream that maybe one day you’ll make it
And the hope that maybe this will be our year
The diving, the referees, the relegations, the failure
The 4-0 thrashings by the rivals, the penalties and quarter finals

I don’t know why I do it to myself
But I know that I wouldn’t have it any other way
This is the beautiful game
This is football

I like your world, God, but I do not like your people
I suppose it’s a problem of personal taste more than a problem of evil
The beautiful world is ruined by the people and mirrors I pass
So much to delight in all around us
But all we want
****, **** and ***

Why did you leave the garden, God?
I wish that you had stayed
Left on our own all we care about
Is getting paid and getting laid

Antioch
The place where my great battle with faith was first named Christian.
Am I?
Aren't I?
A label I so desperately need to put my wandering mind at ease
I can say "Christian! That is what I am! This is what I believe"
But for me, faith is not that easy

Antioch
Where it became a club
You're in or you're out

Antioch
A joyous event for those there
Their truth recognsied
At last
For them, God's promises being fulfilled
The day that the small Jewish sub-sect became...
Christian.
The day one more barrier was erected on this insignificant man's long and arduous journey of faith

It's a journey that's not over
Not even close
Some days bounding, overjoyed, into the loving arms of God
Some days a single seed amongst the thorns

And in spite of all this
Whether I like it or not
I know That I am the lost sheep
And I know
That the shepherd is looking for me
And I know that with man this is impossible
And that with God all things are possible
And I know
That the Lord is calling me home
Whether I like it or not