Stephen, awake from your sleep
There is still business to attend.

It has been long since the world has put you to sleep
And longer still since you were made to attend
The stiff-necked meetings which denied the Holy Spirit
Any sort of hold over Death.

You were not chosen to preach the Word,
Nor to change the world with your life.
Yet, you did.
You did.

How did you fall asleep?
Awake, Stephen. Why have you gone?
Leaving us quickly, before your dawn.

Increasing in number, the people of God
Remembered that Word and Deed
Fulfilled every single need
That Moses wielded with his rod.

Not one of twelve, but one of seven,
Speaking of Spirits that remain unleavened.

Speak, Stephen, don't let us miss a word,
We are listening, among this angry horde.
We are listening.

Let them grind their teeth, I will sit back and cry,
As they close around you, each with a lie.

Speak, speak, speak.

The rocks, oh the rocks,
Why must you fly?
Let him shine through,
Oh God, let him shine through.

Stephen, awake from your sleep.
Stephen, awake.
Stephen.


I dare not disturb him, though silently he rests.

My head against a wall,
Continuous contact,
Cracking, though I know not which.
For this life is a wall, as tall as it is long,
Overbearing and overreaching.
Is there a way around?
My head says no as it cries out.
What will be the first to crack?
Bruises, scratches, pain does not stop the continuous contact.
Not even contemplation concludes the cracking.
Which is harder, stone or bone?
Can one’s cranium bare such solid and stoic cement, stretching and stretching.
Continuous contact.
Until one cracks.

Could I possibly climb across?

I'm staying up all night, there are Demons to fight
Circling around my head and even sleeping in my bed.

Adding to the the lies I cast
Bringing up things in the past
Constantly wishing I was theirs
Denying my joy with their stares

Pleading with me to lose mind
Gouge out my eyes, make me blind
To all of the good that surrounds my day
It's no longer Prayer that directs my way

Maybe this is it.

Maybe I'm done for.

Put on the Armour of God. I will make my stand.
Gauntlets of Truth, one on each hand.
I will be righteous, the breastplate upon my chest.
I will stand on Peace for the rest of this test.
Take up the Shield, my Faith taking hit after hit.
My helmet placed firmly, Salvation saved me from the pit.
The Sword of the Spirit, shining so bright.
The Word of God, the only companion I have tonight.


And I turn to face the Demons and shout with all my might.

I'm staying up all night, I have Demons to fight.

Briskly moving through brisk weather
Death under each step I take.
Time is up now, minds are turning
Fear and freeze about to break.

Polyester coverings buttoned tightly around her
Similar to feelings unable to unfasten.
Bound around her neck and made of fur,
Slide it off in a fit of passion.

Building up slowly during late autumn months,
Sadness and anxiety and desire.
Desire.
Desire.

Craving, itching, lusting for more;
Locked in an apartment and confined.
Books are my company and in them I explore
All of the worlds that have made my mind blind.

The girl with polyester coverings,
Hang up your coat.
It is time for a rediscovering
Of your very first note.

Surface, where's the purpose?

Can we get deeper, instead of making the cliff steeper
Or is this all we got?

Simple Apathy, or Simple Neglect has put us on a path towards wreck.
Do I even know you? Do I even know myself?

Why all these questions?

It’s scary to say that we all have secrets, and finally know that it is completely true.
You’re hiding something from me, I’m hiding something from you.

All we’ve known is surface. No wonder we’ve lost our purpose.

Blank faces, day to day
Blank people seem to get in my way.

I’m not terrified to understand you, I’m just terrified for you to see me.

And so our community falls apart, and yet worse than that
Instead it’s built on lies, made steady by meaningless chat.

Where is your God? Are you holding him, or is he holding you?

Is he sitting on your surface, or is he your complete purpose?

Halt, take in the flower-fyrd whose faces gaze above.
        For God doth formed these instruments,
                His glory from below, a friendly fere  of His free-love.
Colours abound and smells ablaze, coddled carefully by sovereign grace,
        Created in over-many shades, creation requests contemplation,
                God receive praise from our glory-bound place.

Flee to the forest and walk in wonder
        Dew-flavored florae that arise from thunder.
God of Glory, we alms-guests  seek,
        Only to find in mast-lands  so meek.
Blest by back-woods, expansive, brave, and blazoned above
        Humble inscription inciting and inflaming the in-carnation of love.

What is Today, but another day away

From all of the objects and events that I believe will make me

Complete.

Sometimes I forget who I am. Or what I am made of.

And other times, its just hard to see how to get there.

It's not about what I can complete. Or even how I do it.

Because I'll never be complete.

Well, maybe someday. But I'll be gone by then.

"If only I could achieve this" or "If only I could achieve that"

I enjoy pursuing knowledge and skill.

But there is always someone better. Someone smarter.

So cliche.

I simply enjoy truth. But I also enjoy romanticism.

Listening to music, taking in art,  transporting you places.

Is that truth? Or am I simply wasting my time.

No.

I'm not.

It is what it is.

I look forward to Love. I look forward to success. I look forward to completion. Because that's what reflects God.

But for now.

Pursuing knowledge, is pursuing God.

Pursuing Love, is knowing God.

Pursuing completion, is experiencing redemption.

What is Today, but another day away.