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Mark Lecuona May 2015
I don’t mind feeling this way
And I don’t mind the things I say
It’s just I can’t tell you what I believe
Or what it is that makes me pray

I read about a man who knew how to love
And how he died to save us from ourselves
But it was more than we could accept
It’s easier to believe in fairies and elves

We became equals before God
But not those we called our enemy
And with a thousand pardons in our pockets
We used a needle to steal their currency

Knowing forgiveness never compromises
We keep our loyalties close at hand
We combine the spirituality of faith
When we bring together God and man

Was our survival only about reaction time
Or in the peace reminded by the naïve?
They were long gone, even the ruins
But at least the memory is something to believe

Over in the corner where only the air is affected
The things that make me wish for relief wait
In the fleeting moments of light with no shadows
The rock he holds open is the choice of our own fate

— The End —