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.