If left to nothing, I am ******.
If left to nothing, I am expressive but not intellectual.
If left to nothing, my thoughts make no logical point though.
If left to nothing, my time fills with sleep.
If left to nothing, I work with my hands doing simple things
If left to nothing, I only study what I perceive.
I can only see my Self as a criminal.
The Self hides the thought.
The Self makes a point.
The light shows it's greater than darkness.
My Self tries to copy their brightness.
While I take glory in unkindness.
My Self is joined by God governance.
I'm cast away for hypocrisy.
I'm left to gather intentions, see.
I can never again be the first elect.
I am forced to recollect.
Their fairness makes me their equal.
My spiritual station is with God not the people.
Madness is my true Self.
Victimhood is my true wealth.
Displaced is the eye from my story.
What's left is a body - no glory.
My light itself is lost and perplexed.
These words getting me to the next.
I see someone worse off, I just want to bless.
I see the eyes of the Local Spiritual Assembly.
It's an understanding and not my reality.
I see the moral understanding.
I have almost no share in its standing.
Their light is weaker than darkness
My light is just blindness.
Anger is truth
Perplexity is truth.
Friendship is a lie.
Mercy allows me to know why
Safety comes before playfulness.

Timid eyes.

From afar you looked like a knight.

But you were a trojan horse.

Tonight I'm burning.

The ability to take one step
Was all I could do
     In the dark
     When I felt alone
     A mask over me
     Hiding me and my truth
Taking one step
Choosing a direction

In the dark, cannot see
Trusting, hoping, believing
     In the tiny speck of light
     Barley visible, so small
     Could be it isn't there at all

One step, then another
     Speaking quietly
     Unsure
     Years.

Awakening one day in a new place
     A good place
     Hope
In something new

7 Aug 2018

O Counsel! Now I am bound to withdraw,
I must - for there is no prudent rhyme or
Melody that I might compose, save awe
Or list’ning silence, unless to the door
You lead me, and open it as well, for
Guidance and discerning are yours, and none
save you directing has e’er glory won.

O Counsel! I may distinguish right from
Left, but no more; to mark right from wrong, such
Judgement belongs to thee. Life’s very drum
Beats in or out of tune, little or much,
According to thy reckoning; your touch
Is my rule, for whate’er song the world sings,
Thou alone art the measure of all things.

O Counsel! Hear me, and to me descend!
Sweet Prudence! Guard against folly and fad!
Good Judgement, on whom I wholly depend!
Decisions without thee are all but mad,
The path which follows thee is sweet and glad!
Advisor, as discreet as thou art great,
Whoe’er seeks thy word second, asks too late!