My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
Way into the wilderness,
where my heart always hunts;
Seeking for a Footstool,
for my maimed feet of my childhood,
Upon falling into the cold fire of wrath;
I misconstrued.
My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
Distance may alter me,
but of becoming empty and alone;
Be home after that Spirit of Forgiveness
will be regained,
The war has left my mind,
but I could not still find the ending.
My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
I pray. I call for Jesus for saving me
from this poignant Poison;
His amazing grace will evermore
stand against all the waves,
My soul saunters in a separate way,
upon leaving my destined grave.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 6:15 AM UTC
My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
Way into the wilderness,
where my heart always hunts;
Seeking for a Footstool,
for my maimed feet of my childhood,
Upon falling into the cold fire of wrath;
I misconstrued.
My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
Distance may alter me,
but of becoming empty and alone;
Be home after that Spirit of Forgiveness
will be regained,
The war has left my mind,
but I could not still find the ending.
My soul saunters in a separate way,
yet and gone,
I pray. I call for Jesus for saving me
from this poignant Poison;
His amazing grace will evermore
stand against all the waves,
My soul saunters in a separate way,
upon leaving my destined grave.
You may also visit my blog: http://penned-words.blogspot.com/
© 2012
Request permission to use this poem