Harmonious help in sanctity. Set free from prison refashioned in the model of masters. Wanton, wishes, waiting imprecision. Standing upon feet reserved for hallowed entry reduced in stature dream and equity. A force precisely designed for reckoning. Noncommittal to honest regard, rewarding the ravishing brutality of wondering thuggery. Discernment spent on prideful pursuit all beans and treasures sought or gained are now gone to homage.

What have you there Son? Come forward and ask the questions that offer resolution and a quiet heart. Sit and peace find you among the measured gifts of perspective and perceptive. Live for the life is full. Plead for the Judge holds open counsel and this is time for rulings free from anger or retribution. Wrath must come upon indecision and disobedience for rules must make sense and lay hold of response proper. Time right now costs nothing but the price of action untaken. Sing to me your heart and the dreams of a tomorrow you’ve yet to gather round you.

My tolerance is that of heavy machinery. Focus bearded with the caution of the fearful. Boarding vessels meant for humble escape not adventurous undertaking. How found you the jungles everlasting with the birds of spectrum’s pleasure and the wood of houses waiting? Slave to nothing left drifting the vacuumed solar spaces tumbling yawless in swirled abandon to universes entry. Lay too, bind us to moorings middle that our fall may find its ending. OH, to investigate the intentions beyond my calculation, colorful designs wrought by talent I may only ponder. Bullets point fully captured entrance evades and destination unreachable for those roads only exist in the bright ardent pages of God’s willful pleasure.

Grasped tightly to handful of nothing. Reluctance keeps my eye averted not wanting to see the fist of blackness turned to emptiness in light. I am the master of a radical universe with no planets, power, authority or future only a past that haunts. Paying meticulous attention to details that spin stories of braggadocio and valor hoping that someone will see them not in truth but with character absent a man upon a mission of his own binding. I have fooled he greatest of the fools, selling him quiet talks of validation as he pours his treasures into the depths of depravity. What folly may a man own only borrow to fill the sorrows of a heart that would have done something worthy of his oxygen. Spent, dangling between what was meant and that which was adolescently chosen. The mercy of childhood spent painfully as a man never meant to remain in perpetual immaturity. The shame is forever, the guilt clear as gold upon the pages of life spent in pleasure and disregard to the everlasting things of God.

Please pray for me and I for you as often as it comes to heart. For God does not make things without purpose or intention. Any of us that climb the mountain and find nothing spent or gained at journey’s passing took to foot without inquiry as to the planning for each in God. You were meant for glorious undertaking, not of thine own imagination yet encoded upon your heart nonetheless. God made each of us for His Good Purpose and if we fail to ask we will forever have left our value upon the table of a life spent in the limitations of a temporary woman or man. In Jesus Name Find His Voice and Listen that you might find abundant life and pleasure in your passing purpose before God’s Creative making.