Oct 2014
Life is not worth living without love.
We squander our lives, yet search for substance belligerently.
The world wallows in indulgence, hunting for some sweet ecstasy.
Desire situated in our hearts for a thing extravagant.
What’s in a name? Not known in full, not yet complete.
Abandoned innocents, love pledged ‘until death do part’ reveals not faithful.
Is there another dirt road? An alleyway? More faithful
than the sun to go west-bound, love?
Does such simplicity exist? Revived, whole, complete?
Cries lift and salt-stained drops fall belligerently.
What is assuredly, magnanimously extravagant?
What is the original ecstasy?
Was it walking in the garden with you, this ecstasy?
With you, who, to me, is perpetually faithful?
Is it from you that that bliss bubbles over, so extravagant?
Of you, is there an undeniable, unfathomable fountain of love?
We bawl out for reply, until the abdomen aches, so belligerently.
Scars mark this world from its pursuit of the complete.
Peering through the mist, our knowledge is six feet underneath complete.
Redemption, we learn by stumbling, is the finest ecstasy.
On our toes, the paroxysm. We press in belligerently.
To raze and desolate, the swing of the wrecking ball is faithful.
But countering this, a sloppy, passionate kiss of love,
grace so abundant, so extravagant.
Trust steady, hope unswerving, love extravagant,
will be my three until the steam is wiped from my lens in the hour of the complete.
Deeply grasp though, the best of these is love,
from which comes all and any ecstasy.
Know that from the ants to the mountains, He is faithful.
So seek and swallow with all your might, desperately, belligerently.
Therefore, “what do I live for?” ask yours belligerently.
Dwell not in leisure and comfort, but in the painfully extravagant.
Zoom out, turn the merry-go-round. You will find him faithful.
Shake your tree of knowledge, an apple might fall, find yourself not complete.
If you speak silence, you will find no utterance of ecstasy.
I call upon the name, let be known this love.
The sweet surrender, the blissful brokenness, the captivating complete.
Find your absolute identity in this encompassing ecstasy.
Know that what has been done for you, is what is indeed, love.
We squander our lives, yet search for substance belligerently.
The world wallows in indulgence, hunting for some sweet ecstasy.
Desire situated in our hearts for a thing extravagant.
What’s in a name? Not known in full, not yet complete.
Abandoned innocents, love pledged ‘until death do part’ reveals not faithful.
Is there another dirt road? An alleyway? More faithful
than the sun to go west-bound, love?
Does such simplicity exist? Revived, whole, complete?
Cries lift and salt-stained drops fall belligerently.
What is assuredly, magnanimously extravagant?
What is the original ecstasy?
Was it walking in the garden with you, this ecstasy?
With you, who, to me, is perpetually faithful?
Is it from you that that bliss bubbles over, so extravagant?
Of you, is there an undeniable, unfathomable fountain of love?
We bawl out for reply, until the abdomen aches, so belligerently.
Scars mark this world from its pursuit of the complete.
Peering through the mist, our knowledge is six feet underneath complete.
Redemption, we learn by stumbling, is the finest ecstasy.
On our toes, the paroxysm. We press in belligerently.
To raze and desolate, the swing of the wrecking ball is faithful.
But countering this, a sloppy, passionate kiss of love,
grace so abundant, so extravagant.
Trust steady, hope unswerving, love extravagant,
will be my three until the steam is wiped from my lens in the hour of the complete.
Deeply grasp though, the best of these is love,
from which comes all and any ecstasy.
Know that from the ants to the mountains, He is faithful.
So seek and swallow with all your might, desperately, belligerently.
Therefore, “what do I live for?” ask yours belligerently.
Dwell not in leisure and comfort, but in the painfully extravagant.
Zoom out, turn the merry-go-round. You will find him faithful.
Shake your tree of knowledge, an apple might fall, find yourself not complete.
If you speak silence, you will find no utterance of ecstasy.
I call upon the name, let be known this love.
The sweet surrender, the blissful brokenness, the captivating complete.
Find your absolute identity in this encompassing ecstasy.
Know that what has been done for you, is what is indeed, love.
