You know my wickedness,
my darkness,
my shame,
you've seen my barrenness,
my burdens,
my pain,
you've touched my scars,
my tears,
my scoff,
you've smelt my temptations,
my sin,
my pride,
you've heard my delusions,
my boasts,
my lies,
You've tasted my lemon,
my leaven,
my old wine.

You wash the awful attire that I try to lord,
offering me clothes that I could never afford,
I stay in my nakedness,
I feel set in my ways,
you say you're older,
the ancient of days,
I have removed the blocks from the road,
help me drop the lies of this load,
help me ABBA,
dear lord,
my striving has ceased,
by your grace,
help me to walk,
in a way that you're pleased.

Hold on a little longer,
keep on getting stronger,
Foolish things to confound the wise,
nearly met his demise,
but to his surprise,
He told him to arise and go to Niniveh.

Not a betting man but double-check the trifecta,
flipping the script of the natural selector,
dark horses coming through,
tried and tasted what is true,
mongrels mounting up from misery,
as all scream and shout,
who let the dogs out!

Once commissioned as causes of concern,
had a lot to unlearn,
underwritten as risky investments,
downtrodden and dejected,
the last to be selected,
with all eyes on the high and mighty,
they sought to divide the word rightly,
each day the weak ones learned from their losses,
joyfully carrying their crosses,
now they stride strong in synergy,
saved from the scrutiny success solicits,
they kept being pimped from their torn down state in preparation for exhibits.

It's a marathon building shelter for my family of vagabonds and pariahs,
He brought us from a low place so we lift Him on higher,
adopted into community with my gang of refugees,
the prince of peace is our metanoic pallisade,
we don't need an accolade.

I'm a werewolf from the wilderness of woodlands trying to feast on a ****** lamb hoping I can be freed from the curse and be made new.

A walking contradiction,
trying to earn distinctions,
attempting to distinguish,
between the matter of the fact and the substance of the fiction.

Stones from my glass house,
an heir intertwined in the vine,
Jack on a beanstalk trying to make of this life the most,
gotta eat the bread of his flesh,
drink the wine of his blood and make a toast to the only one in whom we can boast.

Coasting between Kendrick and Kanye,
Exhausted by dichotomous extremities,
I'm simply seeking serenity,
He says He sings over us, serenades,
grilling in the fire, salt of the earth I guess we're marinade,
know my target audience so I let these rhymes perform their aim,
whatever that may be,
blind Pharisee trying to see how far I can,
hollow man looking through the the lens of of The hallow man.

I don't seek no sympathy I'm just making symphonies,
quite aware of my apathy,
groaning in my atrophy,
body of death is taunting me,
still I cry out victory,
sprinting for a real trophy,
already in pole position,
impossible it seems as Tom's cruising on this mission,
looking to express the beauty of good religion,
wrestling like a Russian named Ruslan from the west to manifest the Kings dream,
show that he's forever blessed,
while trying to entertain,
got no time to stress,
set up for success,
grinding everyday to enter in to his rest.

His rest is history,
what Jesus did for you what He did for me, concurrently, paradoxically He's presently still working through beings like me and you to make things new.
 
We need His assistance but we act in resistance as we focus on the current waves,
we lose our power,
we must depend on Him in every hour,
our lives are but a flower and a mist,
a brief moment we're son-kissed
dark clouds hover with painful rain,
imminent is His reign,
we will rejoice again.

I played with the pied piper or Prometheus,
I guess I'm just tired of all the things that are misleading us.
 
If you didn't get any of these lines let me try to make this worth your time:
The son of man,
the great I am,
the lion of Judah,
the Holy lamb,
took this son of OB1 and Pam,
showed me light in my darkest night,
though we stray and wander,
he's a good shepherd who calls us home.

If you too feel broken and alone,
there's always a seat at the feet of the faithful friend,
it doesn't have to be Christmas or Easter,
we feast daily on tears, joy and all the beauty and grief between,
washed by the water of His words He's made and is making us clean.

First is how it ends don't worry about the queue,
Foolish things to confound the wise,
nearly met his demise,
but to his surprise,
He told him to arise and go to Nineveh.

An ode to Dunbar,
I binge on his broken wholesome pieces,
how strange the words of a man of long ago and a life so different from my own can strike a chord so true to my aching heart.

Sitting still in the silent sound of crickets,
Ballers catch me out as they hit the wickets,
Looking back on my life in snippets,
Who can save my bones so rickets?

Idol of my heart is self image,
crooked and corrupted by a hidden shame,
fig leaves in my finances,
failing even on second chances,
cover on cover i hide,
don't get too close it's dark inside,
rather fake the mess,
running from nakedness.

Mama, papa i ain't so innocent,
and i can't buy my penitence,
who can look past our misdeeds?
A righteous king who's blood pleads,
always living as he intercedes,
cold recitals of apostles creeds,
won't free us from sin's disease,
we need a change of heart from stone to flesh,
we need to cease from works and find our rest.

So i look up to that cross,
Carrying my shame, my pride, my fears, my lies.
The holy lamb of God crucfied,
And count it all as loss.

Wickedness or weakness?
I should probably not tweet this,
Nearly slipped in to an abysmal depth of despair but read and heard of an heir,
the grim reaper sewed me a ragged garment but i traded it for a glorious cloak i never deserved,
Gave me solace when i seemed stressed,
I felt my soul less with each step,
To be or not to be?
Neither left right nor centrist,
box me at your peril,
living with the most hopeful omen,
killing fear by the day,
The only way to drink the cup is to keep my eyes up,
Icarus: you can never get too close to the Son,
Part of the cure or disease?
don't know how many seconds till the clock stops,
sprinkle some joy in to this cold play,
imperative is change the narrative,
first to find the path to match my claim,
the freedom attained must be sustained,
Am I free?
Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

I used to think I was humble till it was tested,
Same goes for patience, honesty, loyalty and every virtue you can measure,
Can't be a healthy dog if I've never been vetted.

At my most creative when in a crisis,
those momentary lapses when the pooh hits the ceiling and there's no piglet in sight to console me,
yeah no homie just the mirror,
all's left bare and I see a little clearer,
they say draw near to Him and He'll draw nearer...

All in all it's always easier to theorise a response,
I'm starting to realise there's more to myself,
gotta stop being a spectator and get in the driving seat,
will I gain sweet victory or defeat?
We'll have to weight and see.

To some we are serpents to some saints,
I guess it all depends on the picture one paints,
I've learned not to bother to greatly about perception,
there's a deformity of personhood that comes with the fear of rejection.

I'm out of time but I can't let that rush me,
most errors are made in a hurry,
I need a dream team of people,
perhaps that's the difference between LeBron and Curry (lol respect to both),
though I can't tell between the wolves and the sheep though,
haha that sounds a little hypocritical right?
Didn't I just say earlier that to some we are such and such?
Well I too reside among the same,
with people that I've learned to distrust,
iron sharpens iron but the wrong friends can make the whole structure rust.
Nonetheless if they moving shaky,
still might offer a hand of help.

Here's to the pursuit of life in existence,
going against the grain,
the resistance,
when you're trying to preserve things,
you take everything with a grain of salt.

I hope you find something valuable in my random rumination,
I guess it's goodbye till my next 'revelation'.

You will be the head and not the tail,
girl,
you will be the head and not the tail,
boy,
are you the head and not the tail,
woman,
are you the head and not the tail,
man,
You will be the greatest and not the least,
you will be at my table when we feast,

Eyes weary scene it all,
if I stumble blame the fall.
Second Adam just believe.

Tipping on a tightrope,
holding it in tension,
closer to a far hope,
beyond comprehension.

Silence and soliloquy,
raging against atrophy,
freedom only slavery,
sing a sweeter symphony.

What do you do when the flowers start to blossom,
but you're grinch-green like buttercup,
when no drugs can get you high like a power puff,
life is coming at you like mojo jo jo,
hoping for a discount but you don't have a promo,
pains pricked the bubble that you made with jokes.

Carrying a code of conduct in the last quarter as twenty twenty runs passed you,
trying not to drop the baton and let down the team.

Seems like there's holes in your bucket,
cause nothing holds water,
it's a slippery ***** when you can't cope,
feeling like you're at the end of your rope.

Nothing fills the avoid dance,
you just want the record to replay like an encore,
numb from trying to find work like LinkedIn park.

You're not a burden for having burdens,
one things for certain,
every scene has to end,
when they close the curtain,
the playwright might flip the script,
so don't you quit,
soon you'll start to attune to the beauty of spring,
winter was long but a new song you'll sing.

I'm at the brink of my ink,
the more time to think,
the deeper I sink,
it hits the fan,
the room starts to stink,
change the web of my patterns,
trying to see the link,
little extra ****** oil left in my lantern,
my light burns dimly,
you said you won't be quick to ***** a smoldering wick,
I'm tired and sick,
sad stories and tragedies,
got me feeling like faith is a fallacy,
recently all I've had is grief in my gallery,
concerned by my comfort with pain,
tell my brother not to be like professor X but I often do the same,
carry the weight of the world,
thinking that will bring some change.

If you're just about to quit,
jump, hang or slit,
I don't blame you,
this place can break you,
before you leave,
have you ever been?
have you ever seen?
The pitiable prince of peace?
I don't refer to the replicas but the real thing,
the true King,
have you ever picked up his call and let his words ring?
don't leave his message unread,
if you feel like the walking dead,
he's prepared a table for those who,
thirst for water and hunger for bread,
I can't guarantee an easier road,
but I can testify that trusting Jesus lightens the load.

After visiting his gallery,
I was perplexed by his power,
curious of his character,
lopsided by his love.

I hope he gives us enough to hold on.

Time has revealed things about myself that i'd rather un-see,
i'm not the person i thought i was,
more of a monster than i thought i'd be,
toxicity is a spectrum.

"Clocks" coldly plays in my ears,
"...part of the cure or the disease?"
It's amazing how misunderstandings (and music) can help one cope.
When I feel short of oil in my lamp,
the right words at the right time act like an amp,
"Rage rage against the dying of the light."
As Dylan Thomas mourned paternal mortality,
in my ignorance the words of the weeping Welshman gave me temporal vitality,
even now that I'm aware of their accurate intent,
to my own interpretation I remain bent because if I don't hold the meaning that I first saw I lose breath as they become irrelevent.

Hence, in a an era of persistent pandemics, "progress" and injustice,
my spirit crawls with a flickering wick,
body weighed weak like a walking stick,
mind searching for life in a eulogy,
still seeking to slay the cynic in me,
petitions for wrongs to be made right,
raging against the dying...

I know your to and fros,
your sisters and bros,
how many steps you take each day,
how your face looks,
where you stay,
I know what's best for you,
I don't care if you think it's okay.

king by side
queen takes knight,
dusks to dawns,
bishops preying on pawns,
crannies and rooks,
1000 Benji's in The Book,
30 pieces silver all it took,
fishers of men by hook or crook,
ends justify,
ying for the yang,
black for the white,
depths of duplicity,
deadly duality.

The prince of platitudes,
logging for wolves,
specks by his eye,
maybe a stye,
he thought he could see,
learned that he's blind.

Dexter's and Deedee's,
Ed Edd's and and Eddy's,
washed in the red,
sailing unsteadily.

Gotta grind to acquire a k9,
a Canon or a canine,
merry in the mundane,
simply to stay sane.

Tiger Woods nails a hole in one,
The Lamb nailed a hole in three,
took the L never kept the score,
hoping to see his eaglets soar,
back as a lion ready to roar,
not an apparition he let them feel,
no longer heard the hissing at his heel.

Mirages made in desert thirst,
caused them to stray and whine,
to the point it was fine to dine with swine,
in the cool shadow of his wings their wounds will heal,
for it's for his house he has the zeal,
refining ore he's packed and sealed,
the greatest gift to men revealed,
salvation for every nation,
with the gospel's propagation,
disciples' proliferation,
entire generations,
discover true liberation.

Is all fair in love and war?
Clothe me when I'm naked and bare,
Put off excuses that you are unaware,
Do you see me? Do you care?
I'm flailing in flames yet you simply stare.

What are you running from?
Do you see that we are all refugees?
Seeking our own ideas of peace and harmony,
We all just want to be free.

I had an Israeli peer named Mahdi,
a Palestine named Ali,
both came to my country to live regularly,
they could have been great friends but war makes a stranger an enemy.

What is the price of the wars we wage?
What is the cure for this savage rage?

Beyond the surface,
her ocean eyes gazed past my disguise,
she saw the ogre in me,
the monster, the beast,
she didn't run away,
she held my hand,
walked with me,
talked with me,
it was too late,
i fell in love that day.

Perhaps it was a trauma bond,
or an unhealthy attachment,
but as time elapsed i realised that she took me in to her world,
i saw life from her perspective,
how simple and glorious it was,
she cleared my complexity,
took a weight of my mind.

A lighthouse on a stormy sea,
she became a refuge for me.

May my dreams not die before I sleep.

When the throne is not your own,
You can fight tooth and nail,
though it will be to no avail,
fate is a friend as he lets a story end,
***** it up like a man,
cause he won't pull that sword from the boulder,
it cut deep when the prince realised he was nothing more than a placeholder,
with no afforded courtesy,
all is fair in the fight,
now he must lick his wounds,
The king has returned,
the lesson has been learned,
the feeling is bittersweet,
for now he concedes defeat.

"could you keep your head up,  when you're losing ground?"

On this day he was feeling the plight of vision-less sight,
recalling α.ω. Tozer's the "result of rejected light",
like an assassin he claimed all the creeds,
till baseless words were exposed by his deeds,
sometimes apparent depth is hollow and deceptive,
one cannot give anything to one who is unreceptive.

Raised in block C and chalala bedrock,
it's time to go Holme,
what went wrong?
investigate like Sherlock,
perhaps it was when he decided there were weightier matters than his gran,
or when he distanced himself from his fam,
or he spent to much time on the gram,
whatever the case let's make it brief,
the young man simply succumbed to utter unbelief.

The wrestle is not a royal rumble,
oh that cornerstone can make a goliath stumble,
all the words he heard at youth camp,
Couldn't speak when folly gave him the sock,
He didn't listen to the people's champ,
Yes,
he made light of the Rock.

That's enough of lamentation,
it is time for a revelation,
creation groans for the manifestation,
tribes and tongues of every nation,
by the power of Christ find true liberation!

Our lion, our pillar, our papa,
you're as constant as the millet or maize meal we know you'll always want for supper,
don't even get me started on how you've loved my mother.

The eternal drives to get our education,
with Westlife, Bryan Adams moving my present battles with infatuation,
I'm glad that you eventually transitioned to British Broadcasting Corporation,
the constant encouragement and affirmation,
the care, correction and redirection,
the freedom and support,
the discipline and the remorse,
these words come short,
how could I ever repay?
What else can I say,
I get writer's block when it comes to you,
maybe because your life leaves me speechless,
perhaps your love ties my tongue.
when all is said and done I'll always be thankful for you Obi-Wan.
With love,
Your son.

"What is truth?"
Dust returns to dust,
bodies laid out on cold crying soil,
they say it's women and children,
the stench of stale blood permeates,
as some grieve others revel in their "cause",
programmed to see the other as enemy,
the molested minds mangled in a vicious cycle of self torture,
the fragments of humanity seeping away with every act of evil.
The greatest miracle is a changed heart,
How does one convince the deaf to hear?
History will say there are no winners, just death.

In the quiet of the consequence,
rises the volume of his guilty conscience,
another year has gone by leaves him asking why,
his legacy is potential,
Captain could've should've would've,
had he sharpened his mental,
he could have rewritten his story,
partook in the glory,
all he's left with is sorry.

Right now he must resist resentment,
realize repentance hoping the ominous cloud,
the one that stands imposing and proud,
will not pour the cold judgment to which he's been sentenced.

It's said that a stitch in time saves nine,
well pass the wool to the fools,
stress to them that nothing's as it seams,
coil caution tape around what's commonly coveted,
weary of winding up the woeful with warnings they're wound up to be wounded.

It's only a while before wit gives way to grit and the garments don't fit,
leaving behind a bare brother brewing bitterly on cold concrete,
his evidence is shaken,
validity made volatile,
placed on a polluted pile,
slide her a sweater for she shivers,
he should've known better.

Tell the young black stallion,
most times his mare knows best,
there's a stark simplicity to the test,
tell them all to labour to enter in to His rest.

As you fall from the nest,
its frightening at worst thrilling at best,
thrown in to the ocean without a life vest,
figuring out the host like an invited guest,
writing a learn as you go kind of test.
I know you're seeing the tragedies of society and existence but I hope that you'll join the resistance and find some persistence as you seek hope in the Son.

My fellow eaglet how we want you to fly,
to find strength in His wings and touch the sky,
to find healing and testify,
there is no rush,
the pressure can make it feel like you'll crush,
but I know you're a diamond in the rough,
We'll be here to help you fly again,
I can't wait till you're free MB,
I love you my gee.

Providing us food from our conception,
Protecting your chicks like a hen,
Placing a compass when we needed direction,
Powerfully gentle even when we drive you mental.

Adored you are my queen,
Attest I can to the kindness you 'space to let',
Asylum found in your arms with the pain life can cause,
Although you don't seek a round of applause,
Alive still you are we must give you your roses.

Mystery to me the care you have given,
Marvel at times at the trail you have trodden,
Merciful One you blessed us with a pearl,
Mother to us and Obi-Wan's girl.

Esther-esque you watch out for your people,
Ever do you rest you climb so high unequal,
Even when you left to learn and in my ignorant infancy I forgot your name,
Expect you remembered me all the same,
Estimates you have exceeded you're just the one we needed.

Love carries you as you go,
Living in a way you let all know,
Look at the fruits of your labour,
Laughter so loud and contagious,
Lines are lacking because some things words could never express.

Altogether awesome Adonai,
Again you let her see another year,
Aghast we gaze at your glorious grace,
Aquitted we are from the curse,
Appreciative of a mum who lets us know your worth.

Woven in your womb,
Wisdom had us hewed,
While I boast of your beauty,
We all were born broken.

Hence I say you are far from perfect,
However you've always had a precious purity,
Hope this makes you merry,
Have a glass or two of sherry.

Youthful you remain,
Yielding a joy filled jubilee,
Yes fintu mu chalo file moneka kwati fya onaika,
Yet mwali shiba at Yesu a têka!

The end of 2018 felt like a dream,
I heard that you had a stroke and were admitted to UTH,
I didn't know how to feel because it was at a time when so much was falling apart,
I hoped and prayed that you would be alright.

When I came to see you,
despite your frail appearance,
you still had the gentle and warm
voice that I've always known,
despite losing some of your memory,
You never lost your kind character.

Finally you returned home and you continued to get stronger,
you were still the same warm man,
a father, brother and friend to all people you came across.

My fondest memories with you are birthday parties and braiis in Avondale,
you and bambuya were the best hosts,
sitting on your lap and crying for no reason,
also when you'd take me outside to get fruits from the tree,
even those short drives to the local bars to get some drinks for an event,
or exploiting your kindness by asking you for money for some snacks.

You have always been so understanding,
providing a listening ear and sharing lessons you've learned in life,
even though you're shy to pray,
I know God hears you because you have so much love in your heart.

I'm proud to be your namesake,
I celebrate your life,
I love you bashikulu,
We love you Bashikulu,
Happy birthday.

Kanyanta

Once a time I heard it said,
let the dead bury the dead,
I never quite understood what it meant,
until I felt a numbness in my chest,
a desire to die,
a dream deferred,
a strangled sigh,
a song unheard.

I often feel like I walked in the dark,
Ever since I ran from the wilderness,
with all its doubt, drear and shame,
I never want to go back there again,
I strolled the streets of the cold Cape,
saw men punching and talking to the air,
wondering if they're led by its spirit,
I could almost hear their right minds crying from this coat of confusion,
a caged bird singing,
what could lead them to such a crawl,
each man for himself,
God watch us fall.

Called out but took the bait of the Nile,
stiff-necked afraid to plough the furrow,
skin-deep till it got to the marrow,
no shield when struck by the arrow,
backslid and strayed fro
Voices that I dread,
mockers in my head,
Oh that stubborn old man!
I thought that he was dead.

Tell me a greater pain than playing yourself.
Show me a stronger vain,
than enslaving yourself.

Sent abroad only to learn I'm a fraud.
don't feel like your son,
despise what I've become,
my faith is hazy,
my hands are lazy,
just needed a bit of mustard,
**** I'm such a bustard!
most hero's go unsung;
more is always said than done.

Lust, moths, rust and exodus,
without the spirit I'm just walking dust,
without your spirit I'll keep breaking trust,
take naught, take knot, take not I plea,
cast the tempter into the sea,
don't blame the tempter when you don't flee,
that's how you turn into a pharisee.

oh Lord oh God don't let me sleep,
don't let me fall deeper in iniquity,
restore my joy,
revive my glee,
oh break these chains,
oh set me free,
I should have known it all the while,
I was once in denial but time has proven this true,
I'm in love with the Nile.

They'd be debating over the msg, kjv, niv, etc,
while he drowned in *******,
tormented as he trialed his conversion,
vice city no longer a mere game,
but the vicinity of his brain,
conscious corrupted in chains,
marveled at unfruitful doctrines strange,
left sick on the verge of deranged,
eyes laying sight on the vile,
called out but took the bait of the Nile,
stiff-necked afraid to plough the furrow,
skin-deep till it got to the marrow,
no shield when struck by the arrow,
backslid and strayed from the narrow.

He started a company called misery but he didn't get many shareholders.

Treaded passed concrete design by the skin of his teeth,
now he digs deep for a trace of belief,
frustration is futile as each axis folds back on him,
a web of passivity leaves him flanging fleetingly.

At the final analysis,
the beams have buckled,
the stiffeners crippled,
with covid clouding his truss in the structure of his mind,
the bolts are loose,
the welds are weak,
the shear tension pulls him apart,
as these concepts compress his cranium,
with every load combination assessed,
each turning moment reacting to
his resistance to failure.
Steel he'll persist,
the worst chances are not the ones missed but the ones not taken,
will he remain standing with his foundations shaken?

Despite the comfort and amenities I've been endowed,
witnessing the corruption and chaos in the homeland,
a mother's aching bones and a nation stretched ever thinner in austerity sends the sweet siren song of nihilism seductively seeking me to sail upon it's serpentine seas.

A few more millions and maybe I'd marry my mattress and lull in to ignorant bliss; a privilege I'm not able to claim. The Ecclesial song of Solomon rings through: "Everything is meaningless. More knowledge yields more sorrow."

Yet Hope endures. Faith sees beyond. Love sustains. A turbulent but triumphant trio testifying that there's still a tomorrow to be tasted and with a smoldering wick of a flame in my chest,
there still roams a devil to shame so I'll rest.

I smile randomly as she comes to mind,
She can do no wrong and I can do no right.

From the day you flushed my clothes down the toilet because I took your spotlight as the only child,
to when you, "had the cali girl swag" and you "bragged about it" to your polés in B language,
to the day when you were at a high school event acting wild,
the days in between when I punched you in the spleen and received a recompense from dad.

When I'd watch 'As told by Ginger' and 'Hey Arnold' only because you liked them,
your resistance to let go of childhood soaps and all the shows we grew up with,
when we'd play waida, hands up america, the country game and all the trivialities to pass the time,
when you'd console me after an umpteenth unrequited romantic endeavour,
and all the things that my memory has failed to keep.
Oh my dear,
you've come a long way.

Now you're a lawyer but you're still my big sister,
behind your well written and thought out comments and critiques,
is a passionate, fiery lady with a desire for change,
a confident yet insecure woman who's fed up with acne, backne and banana knees.
Like many people there's more to you than meets the eye,
the grief and pain you hide,
the places you keep at the corner of your mind,
loved ones lost, breaches made, and dreadful doubts.

Before I bore you,
I just wanted to write this to say how much I adore you,
I've written poems for people I've known for a day,
but I've let my own blood slip away.

My life has felt worth the trip because of people like you,
you're such a special person even though you don't think it's true.

Cheers my friend,
you just hit a quarter century,
here's to at least two more,
even though there's tough times to come,
I'm excited to see what the future has in store,
as you put your trust in the Son,
may you fly with the wings of eagles and soar.

I love you fam.

Nyantie

Dearest reader,
What is home to you?
For me it entails safety and solace,
A place to rest my head,
Where I am known fully yet accepted.

For many years I wandered,
seeking refuge in places and people,
yet still feeling the deepest lonely,
words have been a way for me to explore,
this sense of lostness,
at times a certain truth leaves me feeling understood,
then I change and grow and it becomes a never ending quest,
leaving me weary from searching.

There are many troughs but at the crest I find rest,
I find home and more in a person,
A King and a Priest forever blessed in the order of Melchizedek. (Heb 7:17)

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." - John 14:23

It's like the salty sea,
a teaspoon of time in your presence,
every second seems serene,
the silence sets the scene,
they say protect your peace,
my fears i will release.