The poet wanted no money,
nor the overwhelming land
nor property, but the wealth
of the heart, and of the soul,
and so he commenced his
quest, to search himself,
of words, feelings, thoughts,
so that he might enrich
his very life, and live
once more as a content poet,
tho' to the world it leaves little to be desired,
but to he, it proved the most valuable thing
he could want.

I have no noble name,
no objects of great worth,
nor a penny to my name,
I have not the looks of a prince,
or equivalent charm,
no land, nor investments,
by all accounts of the world,
I am nothing,
yet by the standard of the Lord,
I have wealth of wisdom,
love, passion, trust, integrity….
or so I have been told,
my loyalty is unwavering,
my resolve immovable,
where there is evil,
my heart remains steadfast,
and it shall break upon me
as water does upon a rock.
You wonder as to why,
why you should trust me,
have I led you astray,
have I given such a false
impression that I might have
led you to believe that
confidence and respect is not
something I value,
for I can greatly assure you,
I do care greatly for it.

Tho’ by the standards of the world
I am but a broke, and lowly man,
to the other aspects of the world
I am surely rich,
I have no proof,
I have no support for these claims,
does my argument falter?
Nay, my heart is as much apart of these
words as my mind is for creating them,
I produce this testament in support
of my character, My heart,
my very being,
pray that you trust me,
for this is something I value.

Months of Joy, and life,
I had been warned time and time again,
yet still I refused to listen,
I came closer to the pits of despair,
than I had dared,
I was motivated, keen on getting what I wanted,
not even noticing the shadows that loomed,
I was ignorant, for I pursued selfish bliss.

My heart was wrong, my mind always was,
given false hope, believed the devils lies,
I did things that in the end resulted in cries
for help. I had not listened,
my faith had waned,
my heart had sunk,
and in pursuit of False hope,
I died inside.

The path was long, arduos, enshrouded
in the darkest mist, with ferocious noises,
I stumbled and fell for ever and ever,
until, I smashed upon the ground with
suddenness and hurt,
It all clicked into place,
finally sense reappeared,
I was in the darkest place,
the devils house,
his door was locked behind me,
Yet it was not too late,
One loud cry,
one ferocious roar,
and he thundered through the door,
and light illuminated all that was there.

Despite what I had heard, all I had feared
Nothing at all was there.

And so began the long journey home,
through the lit up forests,
with Christ as a beacon,
his word as a torch,
my heart as a final bastion,
and I was heading home…
that didn’t make it easy though,
I had to fight,
hard and long,
up the hill,
through the storm and dry,
I was scarred, and wounded
in the soul,
this is my battle,
my painful experience,
Pray this message touch
your soul:
“Dont ignore the warnings,
and beware of the mist.”

Listen, learn, act and obey,
this is what I hadn’t learned
yet upon this day,
I have.

Under the palest moonlight,
the wolf does howl and cry,
“I am alone! I am alone”
to which others far off reply,
“So am I”,
“me too”,
and he wasn’t alone in being alone.

Your heart, My dear,
Is ever being intertwined with mine,
a close knit fabric of love and romance,
like the elegant fabric of silk, or lace,
so fine.

To you I earnestly look,
and see my heart lose control,
and words pour out like,
water from a fountain piece.
These my days of joyful delight,
are brought on by you,
your smile,
and your beautiful blessed heart.

Prayers are lavished upon you,
as are smiles, and loving remarks,
each day is a blessing to which I inquire
"Lord, How many more will you bless me with?"
and hope he says a million more,
more often than not, I hope for
million upon millions of days, weeks, months,
that I may spend with you.

I admit, not all things I do demonstrate
love, some things I say are bitter and harsh
but I pray you forgive me, and apologise swiftly,
Always. My heart is for you,
not against, I cannot have you believe that.
I say I love you,
and by all that I am,
I mean it.

At the lowering of the flag,
and the rise of white,
let it not be mistaken for cowardice,
but may it be perceived as wisdom,
that my heart, a battleground
torn and riddled with blood and scorches
is now the blessed land of peace,
that all foes are in full retreat,
and the drums of victory loudly beat
and the shout of triumphal praise.

And at the going down of the bitter red Sun,
when flames smoulder, and hearts surrender,
I shall rest easy in the night, knowing, knowing
no more shots and thunder ring to my ears,
nor the tortured screams of twisted souls,
as the sun slowly sets in its ****** colour,
the fields of red and crimson,
are washed clean by truth.

Relief, the greatest sigh of relief,
that this land suppressed by fear
is liberated by an almighty host angelic
in all its glory, that with every rhythmic step
and every lyrical chant,
the enemy trembles and breaks,
no wait, they retreat.

And now, this scorched field of battle
bloodied and burnt, is restored by Christ
to beautiful fields of green and life,
trees, forest, Golden sunlight, skies of blue,
air of purity, and a life renewed, and improved,
rivers ebb and flow, trees creak and groan
as birds sing their songs, and the world is once
again alive and fully well,
this is my world,
this is my human soul.

Sing me a song, o’ muse Calliope,
that in the summer solstice music
does release, wave upon wave of glory,
joy, and harmony, that with smooth lyric
this uneven heart might embrace
the golden summers dawn, that kisses
the newborn day, and nothing shall deface
this my radiant summers bloom.