Sorrow is no stranger to my hand
It remains a constant beat were I stand
So I seek constantly God and bow
My rhythm and my rhyme to what I dare not know now.
For times that are to come may scare me in my mind they are not real it’s something I have made up in my spare time.
I am no stranger to what time may tell because the tales time tells are riddles in my soul.
It’s the constant sorrow from the brokenness that laid its foundation I grew through concrete and degradation.
I’m still shifting my view and God reveals my heart but I’m always lonely and set apart.