Allegiances and passions lethal makeshift fashions designed for escape and to provide some cloak of trade. The tirade never happened the battered and the captained found solace in the slumber of the golden palisade. Traded all my wisdom for a bucket full of patterns looking for the passageway to Saturn’s yearning moon. The firestorm still rages between the welding sages amazing duplicity constructed on the boon. All left to freak occurrences heeding the assurances that tied us to morning when dawn had come too soon.

The Bible and a Preacher who considered himself teacher fought to reach the heavenlies before the Chariots would play. All he said was predetermined, authentic as a sermon given on a Saturday before the Sun had gone its way. Redaction sans his rhetoric Theory and post etiquette for all that shown were his bright eyes and the Fires of God within. They listened and some were shaken some questioned and were mistaken for all had one thing in common the price paid for their sin. Now Christ is not operating on leisure there are none who may take measure for perfection belongs to one of us and His Name is Sovereign God.

Wayward sleep and rest for comes soon another test as humanity must rise above the place it once had been. His reflection in the crucible unchanging and inducible proof of dross removal and purity set in. My loss is counted sifting the Lord does all the heavy lifting, my job is simply stand in faith and watch the Master’s craft. If they could see my state now soon to meet the heaven’s you seldom would have laughed. This journey just beginning challenged by color, morality, whisper and song. We find forgiveness in the doing. Recovering from wounds found in inaction we take to roads which ought not be ventured. Recalling the warnings lightly given as protection from the ills of counsel unheeded.

The songs seek to sweep us from sturdy footing and lure us into weakness of breast and surety of mind. In tongues forgotten sweetly, we remember the dawns of lesser days travelling peacefully through forest unencumbered, by ritual, plant of bonny babe we pass in comfort of the fear that once had us frozen. Into lions grip we’ve committed selling ourselves duly to the wheels of time we have found history unfriendly and future an angry lass. To street to will to pleasure finding the sound of boots chasing rocks and pavement a soothing salve for minds way beyond the collection of memories and hope.

We find inclusion without trepidation or remorse in the ticking sweep of Time’s broad arms. Going forward leaves an emptiness of fortifications and cities built to feed the false sense of insecurities. Leaving the caution of the damned we courageous chase the midnight calm found in each of Earth’s proud reveling. Running bye the sun we salute all our aspirations born on the morning winds and sands of revelation. Into pitch we draw lacking resentment or regret we fancy ourselves hopeful. Into dreams draft we point our apprehensive call to understanding and embrace of what we know is certain.