what’s the point of history
if we keep flying
paper kites into a level five hurricane?


© 2021

I've almost done it before,
but always by myself.
Always too ashamed to ask for help.

Tried to force myself off it on my own, but
who am I to sit and beg for help on a telephone?

I've always had friends with me,
yet suffered alone.
Hasn't killed me before, so how about just one more though?

I didn't do it for like two days a month ago,
I'm not addicted.
And I wont do it for the rest of the day,
I c- I can stick with it

Cuz I'm not addicted,
I just like the way it feels

I'm not addicted,
but I'm running out of money for these pills

No one likes a mystery-
we hate being left in the dark.
To not know is to suffer
night after night.
What a cruel fate
to be void of
clarity.

watch over the colony
shedding their lives
to pay for a lend

cover your ears
don't humor the calls
but cully the fear

"please, we are freezing
there's not enough food
our children are ill"

hush little ones
your leaders have failed
shame on the lot

this is your trial
and We are the judges
sitting on hands

Blue ocean, sleepless tides
Under the surface
An endless well
Ringing out wedding bells

Holy matrimony, red rose ribbon
Beware the trap
Low-class living
Madman skips the system

Broken road, remote
Is not alone
Endless river, always some place to go
When I is all I own

Some trudge with thorns that only Jesus knows,
bent arrows only Jesus could remove.
Yet burning darts remain so fire might prove
rich purity of hearts, which suff’ring shows.
Chaperoned by sorrow’s lonely silence,
while moaning winds that ride the morning mists
portend the threat’ning storms of each day’s fists,
weary souls conceal distressing violence.
But Jesus holds their slightest measured pain,
as well as most excruciating arrow,
for He who governs ev’ry falling sparrow
won’t let His children’s trials wound in vain.
And resting in His all-sufficient grace,
they’re strengthened by His love to win their race.