Nothing to tell no one to blame, in quest for all things including the fame. Shot for the stars when kneeling prescribed, stolen some hearts and others I bribed. Stepped in deep holes I dug on my own, shredded the rules the good deeds that I’ve blown. Ran away when fighting was right chose to fight when peace would have been right. Shook in my boots no courage was found ran up on the rocks lured in by the sound. Hopeless at best and at worst simply wrong. Wrote a prayer and a song that she said was too long.

When learning was apt was apt to charge in believing chastisement to let the learning begin. Far away wisdom a shelf up to high, stealthily stealing what I most certainly could buy. Begged, clipped and borrowed the pats on the back instead of just asking I had chosen to hack. Knitting a tapestry with holes at each end breaking their hearts without letting them mend. It was all so simple when checking my list eschewing my purpose in not too exist. Leaving them hanging one claw in the curtain abandoned for sure left alone to be certain.

Pray what is done is the best for all involved. The problems, solutions and issues resolved. The thinking the challenge the charge to be known, not remembered in failure or the bad seeds that I’ve sown. In blossoms and carrots and fruits of the ground may my character and courage finally be found. The sound of the wind no longer whispers a name nor the works of relation some rules to a game. Finding successes in the hearts that I meet the errors of judgment twice not repeat. Replete with good measure and some spices thrown in the taste of good pleasure minus my sin.

Many the road and pleasant the task working for wonder for miracle I ask. Not for my wealth, health or wanton heart but to repair that which is broken no longer apart. Formless and fickle the lusts of this man leaving behind this has always been plan. Would that I wanted and wish that at start was not absent reason and greater understanding of heart. Still in this venue I will plant a tree in the end you will see Him in the fruits that shall be. All splendor and graces pour out through your life whether walking in silence with husband or wife.

I leave you with little it is all that I have the wounds they need healing as eye for the salve. So succor your feelings and let God do His work and forgive those that hurt you especially this jerk. The gifts I was given regardless of muse are only worth having when put to good use. In sadness or badness I lose what’s inside perhaps that is the reason my wound is so wide. Empty beginnings and fine fuller ends the intention we mention, the breaks and the bends. It is not what I suffer that makes me the man nor the breadth of successes that says I am part of the plan. Each breath I deliver each beat of my heart defines my position, hope and my part.