Jerusalem, will of Man, of Ishmael, and not Isaac
Dome of the Rock and not House of God
A constant thorn and not peace of the Earth
We weep as those who wept at the Second Temple

Jerusalem, a lure, a trap, a stumbling block, a sieve
******* to false prophets and worldly kings
As Ishmael sent away, so shall Jerusalem be exiled
For One greater than the Temple is here: Immanuel

Jerusalem, Bride of God, shall descend from above
Trumpet blasts in skies, the world shall see and mourn
All Israel gathered and her enemies judged
The kingdom of the world becomes the kingdom of God

I believe what is true but knows not truth
Instead I feel truth is what I believed
Most believe what they feel, instinctively
But I, without reasons, cannot believe

Alas reasons found on self evidence
As in what is and is not cannot be
Conjectures they are if truly honest
But axioms worked in all mathematics

Is truth then not of reason but of faith?
For does not ear test words as tongue tastes food?
Surely then we do have some means to know
Even so, must not faith be tested true?

For faith is circular: a conviction
Compelled by strength and conviction of will;
A will constrained, by flesh, susceptible
To unknown beings in spiritual realms

But what if this being is God? And faith,
Conviction of the certainty of things,
Holy Spirit’s gift, marking election,
Affirming justification in God.

Truth by two or more witnesses is sure
Do we attest the Holy Spirit true?
A blasphemous thought perhaps, but prophets
Led to lie to kings and shown to be false.

Thus ignorant sages showed assurance
Lies solely in God’s grace, mercy and love
And in his faithfulness to the elect
Declared in Israel again and again

In my search for truth, I was led to faith,
The faithfulness of God, truth’s ultimate rock
His gifts unchanging, irrevocable
And confirms the fear of the Lord is truth

so easy to fake the eye
a smile, a wave, a word
but we see not with eyes
nor hear with ears
we see with soul
liars denigrate the soul
into nonsense to silence it
that we believe only
the show put up for us to see

More wicked than *****, that ***** mourns
More evil than Satan, that Satan's justified
Lot, tormented in his soul, rescued
So shall it be the Righteous' lot
The Angel of Darkness shall descend
And ***** sits in Judgement seat

Acquainted with the minutest details
Asking the deep but obscurest questions
Walking paradox each waking moment
Conundrums within constantly astir

Then I know we walk same mysterious ways
Hidden enigmas part if seas open
Waters from dead rocks when all hope is lost
Yet we walk, the light irresistible

Apart in time and space irrelevant
For the soul's immortal and eternal
Speaks the same words in the same awe and light
In language beyond words, speech without sound

When we are children,
   We play adults.
When we are adults,
   We play gods.
When we are gods,
    We know we are but children.