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Poem
-
Haunts of my being,
soul of my past
Wants to return;
be me
Again, Future
taunts, dancing fast
Tempting "What
thou canst be."
Oh how long will
confusion last!?
So I please, "Where,
oh where am I?"
Do I struggle
and strive
With awful memories
that spy
Or dwell in later
life?
Nay! The stock
o now I must buy.
-
For present is
where will be and
Has been twist
in twain
Ne'er creating
a savor bland.
It is a time to
gain;
To purge the filthy
hand.
Time where history
I repair.
Holy Blood shall
save it
From horrible
depths of despair
Which grace I'll
ne'er forget
Nor, with anything,
can compare.
But wait! There
shines a greater plus
Promise of bliss
everlasting
All within a grand
plan for us
That we may be
a king
Or queen; based
on deeds it is thus.
Then, not only
time is which my
History I repair,
But an epoc below
the sky
For which I must
prepare
Giving my all
before I die.
For such I'll
be accountable,
For which one
day I'll stand
In front of Christ's
e'er lovable Being,
Judged pure or
damned.
How I pray I'm
acceptable!!!