A glimpse over the shoulder
A twinkle in the eye
A lasting thought of forever
So quickly passed by

Far away, I see a man
Standing tall on rocks of sand.
Careful not to move or breathe.
Fearful of what may break beneath.

He sees me, too,
Wading in a pool of blue.
Here I have stood for years,
Now tired from all of my fears.

The water whispers my name,
Saying I am not to blame.
She offers me rest.
And lulls me to take one last breath.

But the man warns me to keep my head above,
Warning me of the devil’s dove.
If I die, so will he; even now, we totter
Scared, I may drown in three feet of water.

An umbrella
Is the image that haunts my dreams
Just a fella
With a heart for coffee and creams
And just a girl
Quiet yet not weak, no, she’s meek
And a big world
Pouring raid down, from which I reek
Dreams, that is all
On which I think, how could I not
A hope so small
So mighty, so I cast my lot

Even so, as tall as I am
My giants are always taller.
With great fear, I cowered before them
Knowing not what to do, I bent at their will.

Though greater is, the Great I am,
Who, before giants shrink shorter
And recoil as glory rush from Him.
He has made all things new, according to His will.

No great story ever started with darkness?
Do you not know the greatest story ever told started with darkness?


Once upon a time,
Darkness plagued the land—
A great, powerful, grave darkness.
Darker than anything, man knows.
And how could he,
For man never lived in that darkness;
It was before time itself,
For there was no sun,
There was no moon,
And no stars, or plants.
There was only separation
Of the darkness and the Light.
And great was their separation,
As great chasms divide us from one another
So there was between the darkness and the Light,
But at this time darkness was known by a different name,
For it was not but the absence of light
But the absence of all that is good and holy.
It was called chaos,
For apart from the Light,
No good could be found.
And so it was,
And it was good.

Until the angels fell with thunderous rejection
Cast down from the Light,
For their hearts were filled with chaos
And hardened to fit their form.
So their hearts were set against the nature of the Light;
Their chaos was filled with murderous intent,
Hatred of their faithful kin,
And displeasure in the good nature of the Light.
And he who led them had great envy,
Desiring that the light would be his.
Plotting for glory and power
To be placed in his unfit fist,
For once he carried the Light true and pure,
But now his chaos made him unfit,
For it would disgrace the Light
And inflict wrath upon him.
For no chaos could touch the Light
Without severance of chaos,
And bound to body and mind was their chaos.
So the prince of chaos plotted for his own glory
Yet brought wrath upon him and his followers,
Mistaking what he once held to be his.

And it is this darkness that blinds us so.
Making us selfish,
Mistaking what we held, to be our own bit of light,
For only what is holy may hold light.
We, man, are nothing more than the spawn of the Light.
Who, like the accusor and his kin, chose chaos
So that we may do anything our heart desires.
And the Light, being gracious and true
Did not sever us from the light
But granted us audience through the Sacrifice
That we may reflect the Light
As we did on the day of our birth.

I am Israel

I am he who wrestles; (Selah)
With sin
And lust;
With pain
And pleasures;
With hatred
And joy;
With solitude
And Chaos;
With father
And mother;
With man
And God.
Selah

Obsidian woman,
She born of tempered glass,
And fine ash of great ejection.
What? I ask brought this upon you?
For you are as a blade
Yet are fragile as glass.
You boast a sun-kissed face as ash
And a kind forbearance as God.
A beauty, I declare,
A favored dark jewel
Yet this stone I will never hold.
Instead, you carved yourself a name
Jewel of safí̱neia,
Who hones my cornerstone.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God,”—

—But who is to say that is so?
Because all of these things strike with a heavy blow.
And this “good” is sometimes painful at best,
Cutting away at these things in my chest.
And the truth is my “good” only benefits me.
It keeps me comfortable, that much is plain to see.
God asks if he could remove the darkness from my heart
But my heart, only knowing darkness,  it cries out not to part.
So, I must soon decide
Whether to flee or to abide.
I hear the sound drum
I think, am I to become—

—“to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

Her eyes are so brown
They make the world drown
And the bit of blue
Pulls me deep into
you; if I knew who
You are, truly knew.
My joy would flow down
Making my heart bound

Ensembles grace your halls
But your voice is enough for me
For you they throw grand *****
But we could sit quietly as can be
If you are a Queen
Then I am the Jester
Fiercely I try to wean
But how would I sequester

A rose who rose above the rest
Not proud, nor made to detest
High in the sky, she goes up
To the sun like a tulip or buttercup
And I, so distant, built to be resilient
Shrouded by those with murderous intent
I among the weeds, bound by my deeds
But a thought of her had me feel as freed
And then did wend to me a friend
The kind whom to my wounds did tend
Saying, those with thorns tend to mourn
She stands above it all, not fearing the norms

Cupid, you foulest of the archers
How you lodge your arrows deep
It is like a fire burning my heart
And I have no room to bleed
Apollo archer of poetry
Please pierce this dart in my chest
That I might write this poem in blood
And with fatal words, confess
She never loved me at all
And I have no reason to persist

I thought for so long
You would have golden clouds
Shining over the blue skies
A queen beyond my worth
Who knew what I desired for
Was wheat fields over the earth