Fools and Grace

Fools and Grace

Fools and Grace
Skylights are the only thing keeping me high, running with fools and drunken cowards by the river side.

I don’t notice my life changing in a blink, waves swallow me as my body slowly sinks.

We are the falling stars that’ll crumble to dust against a wall, drying up into specks of waste when we hear a moral call.

Drapes of life lay me on the riverbed, alone, unnoticed by the ones who grind their heavy bones.

Breaths of salvation kiss my lips, my back bleeds from their earthly whips.

Lungs turned to stone and fire, the arenas cheer while swords rip my flesh, the nods of buyers.

Fed to the starving giant called depression, brimstone cracks while crosses echo their cryptic sessions.

A light doesn’t matter if I cannot hear the call, banging my fists against iron bars of a steel wall.

Save me from the inner pain of sin, are you the one destined of David’s kin?

Strapped and torn while the crows pick my brain, the hangman severs my neck to end the pain.

Where I read and sing, people slowly follow, knowing I cannot be worthy is a drink I can hardly swallow.

Watch the stars fall from grace, each condemned lash breaks against my face.

This home of black rock burns a flame, were we fools who wish they could make a change?

The swords and grins behead all who kneel, loss of life rotates like a cycling wheel.

I am not worth this heavenly deed, axes chop away the tree while rain buries its seed.

Bloodied hands and feet lay twisted, dragging me towards hell, he insisted.

Wait, my dear father I am sorry, hands corral my feet to stand against death’s army.

Words in mouth and warmth at hand, slay my body but weep when I kiss your sandals on the sand.

Pierce my flesh with steel and metal points, crack the bones and rip them from my joints.

My tears water the ground while goodness spreads, the tree now mightier than what the doubtful said.

I am but a servant weary and starved, heads and souls witness the love that’s been carved.

I have said what must be sung, the night covers the day while I am quietly hung.

Family do not be sad of how I came to end, all believers die when he descends.

Bloodied Skies

Bloodied Skies

Bloodied Skies:
We all know what lies beneath our wooden beds, the sun dims as skies turn violent red.

Whisper in my ear, follow child for it’s a task of dread, can’t you see I listen but disobey upon what you said.

Close your eyes.
Follow my quiet sighs.
Is it truth or religious lies?

Don’t close your eyes as we walk on water, this ocean wave listens to the man called King and Father.

But under sea level I stare for the angst delivers, don’t call to me, I am bow, useless without the quiver.

Can you dear man see our skies turn bloodied red?

The walkable sea drowns those who sleep in anxious beds.

I thirst for acceptance as you offer calming peace, the one beneath wishes we all step down, violently cease.

Here me speak upon how you once gave lambs spiritual hope, now their uncertain ideology hangs from where we hung our ropes.

I am but a human.
Men and the bones of Women.
Red skies and changing seas.
Truths or Lies, Love or Sin.
I’ll step on water my dear friend.