Felonious, bedraggled off-put league. To dawn comfort I would bid you learn again the mild mannered hazard of a saintly few. Lord and master of the whimsical. Silent servant to the clumsy hands of brigand’s fog. We lopes, we rambles and takes what we’re wanting as it presents it treasure. Third and fourth personal references aside the time of gallantry past we fixedly embrace those proud oafish meanderings. Silence an impossibility, stealth beyond question, now to chaos, calamity and anarchical misdirection. We are those ruffian, riotous lot begot with a hunger never quenched but by the loss and tears of innocent folk.

What to the desert so clean, so well swept with the high winds past midnight, racing bound for the starlit sea. Why such hurry, no dawdling, bring her nose about that we might take full sail and challenge the hands of time to stop us for we reach tomorrow. Laws passed, not with intent of adherence or accountability, but with the stylish manner of appearance. We must be seen going about what we are to go about. No questions no curious eyes no reports to the Queen of those who’ve gone against her good pleasure. We are the needful obedient, seeing the consequences unpleasant we skate, never late and will debate with full fire and fury of men stricken to keep nose half inch above lake.

That I could have done the right things eleven times and the worst at first. It is not for the mild to pursue life everlasting and the walk commensurate with aligning to perfection’s call. Standing apart, never far enough that assistance may be forgotten or love offered with a strong grasp and a pull of bread and wine, but reluctant nonetheless to become one with terranical. Dream of hopeful transformation and rebirth to a world solely explained by its inexplicable nature and our lack of imagination. We humbled by unspeakable sovereignty lay down our quest for mortal riches to place our hope in those things only achieved, seen, obtained or realized in passing. Those impossible things beyond the realm of intelligence yet twice brilliant than the greatest mind has known. The magics of mystery born in the Word’s whisper in power and purpose. For the August few.

What then of my lusts? Why must they be bridled as I tighten my jacket and pull up my trousers to show the world the curvaceous nature of a man born to midnights fill? Why must it be answered this interrogative regarding too much or overdone, for that is the only prescient reaction in desire’s call the endless cup to be filled and once again turned inside out looking for each savory drop? We are not held by wind, light and time but by the raging inferno of our heart’s newest cravings. We serve the master who doles out ladle upon ladle of fat filled mead, buttered with cinnamon and salted with carmel flourish to soften the will of the righteous himself. We pay no heed to doubt or faith, what need has man who serves his own mouth and belly for the things that will earn us time beyond that which we will use to visit the trough of life’s pleasure?

I’m gonna tell someone about Jesus, Hoping they give Him Praise. I’m gonna tell someone about Jesus, Of Salvation and the Glory days. With all of my might and my eyes closed tight Knowing that the Spirit gonna put things right. I’m gonna tell someone about Jesus hoping they find their way home.

I want the world to know Jesus, only He can set them free. I’m gonna tell someone about Jesus, and how much He loves you and me. With all of my mind, body, soul and heart, I am gonna let them know the very best part. We all get to be with Jesus, when He gets around the bringing us home.

For there’s Power in His Spirit to proclaim us the Sons of the King. As we witness to His Glory and great things His return will bring. Are you packed up are you ready? Cause Jesus might come back today. I’ve got this time to tell you about Him so here’s what I’ve got to say;

Morning beckons dark leave hold, give way to life and light. But darkness enjoys its grasp upon the hearts of men in their imaginations troubled by the wretched sea and silken dark. Then the fizzle, the kindling spark and promise is whispered by those who remember warmth and hearth. Welcome encouraging few to see the light reassembled against the formidable purple black of moon’s back side. What hope has left its mark upon those who would be coupled and vanquished by the raging, hateful threats of night?

Then the Sovereign hold of Creation’s law separates the night once again from day. The wrestling begins as rosen arrows of light assault the horizons veteran hold. The amber fury gains push from beneath the hedgerow showing itself victor over the greening black of latter morning. Eyes averted to the coming blasts of cyrene and orange overtaking the line of night’s departure. Aperture’s narrowed to ease in the resounding and exponential increase of waves, particles and plasma’s burning embers embrace the day.

What light is found in the vacuum time of space? Colder than winter’s fury the icy black nothingness of void and space between matter wins the battle of solar system’s yet they be name for the light. For none may prevail against the formidable gases heated by chemicals aflame with the simple rage and passion’s of God born within them. How may dark preside in legal fashion upon the dais of life’s determination? None may stand against the cleansing might of fire’s anguish to see all revealed. All to be known by its profile in shadow. Left to darkness evil plans its return to capture for a time all life in slumber or slinking window of torrent and horror found only in the depths of dark.

What child is this? Brilliant, dazzling, aflame with colors, karat and cut each facet of greater eloquence. Radiant perception, not to flames height but to colors majestic upon the greys and blacks of morning unforgiveness. The warm hope of morn touches hand’s back removing pain, fear and doubt left with gleaming recall of pride, fashion and faith. Visually outstanding set against the ashen and vermillion hues of verdant field. Sliding past the opulent reference the streaking swollen reds and bursting yellow blast of phosphorescent glory.

If you tell a story don’t you want it to be true, Bout the flag waving in God’s Glory and His Love for me and you. We recall the battles fury and the loved ones we have lost, reflecting on the value we cannot forget the cost. To the ramparts my Good Soldiers to mount your tanks and cannons free, give them answer to desire to make slaves of you and me. Make the oceans be the graveyard for attempts to take God’s gift for a nation living freely leave them lay beyond the rift. Now to air heaven’s pilots dropping bombs on them like rain, we forgive them their offenses but now they must Know the pain. And to ground our mighty warriors to their Kings give God’s demand.

Drained of heart they forgot their part and simply laid down to perish. A fair dish to serve so cold and relish the incalculable enemy losses gained in their confusion. No solution presented as ready meet we do entreat to reason. Ground and pound another round of forgive them for the season. Forgotten courage of numbers glaring they race to defeat though easily three to one man to spear to artillery’s flare, we stare into the coming dawn, each helmet kept tightly fastened on sweaty scalp, chasing the time to remember the ember’s lit in each heart as we sought to earn in struggle that which could not be bought. Freedom’s heart beat thrice that day and as children say in charming way the blessing had come upon each mind in peace and soothing heart as the start of the end checked into to the mountain vale and welcomed at valley station yale.

Warm hearts to life, sweet life so swiftly dealt another blow or left to grow oddly toward eternity. In dreams power by imagining breast each must face that test to which a man made be unmade yet bade simply to comply and die for the cause of body given mathematically, not so emphatically participating in the rushed mourning of young men lost to chambered round and the sound of wounded left to die in the colors of infested wound, boundless, hopeless ill informed of the beaches, trees and castle they’ve stormed. Liesel said her parting charting days without end avoiding the sending parchment or orders to regimental command where she had planned to country with young gent, if and when he be sent home to the wanton breast this lovely young woman so proudly presented for viewing as all lined up renewing their vows to God, King and Man we’ll take what we can and leave the rest for raptors alight.

Grey tapestry this sky destined for pageantry in dream’s expression offered confession to sin against man and God in taking for the sake of conquest. In Jest we marvel at the round Earth ours, clinking glasses and tapping swords on the table of our remembrance. Where to God’s Freedom from guilt as the silt of our weighty debt piles at the river of his discontent, so sanctuary but repentance, No distance to run or fly consistent to earn faith’s bypass. To God alone through path of Shepherd learned in August delight or moon’s dark through frozen footsteps. We’ve chosen this day this peaceful day rent wide open with laceration of our imprecise determination against man’s mortality to question morality and sleep no more free of their cries but shower in the blessings usurped from God’s hand.

Closer we get to midnight the faster we begin to run, try so hard to get it right pressured by the setting sun, it all begins to make some sense as we stop to catch our breath, the greater our faith in God above the less we fear our death.

Leaving behind our worry, our defenses and our doubt, Seven times around the Walls and waiting for the enemy’s rout, Don’t know when these walls will fall just know that they’re coming down. Have my ears inclined to heaven listening for the angel’s shout.

On this hill I wait for Glory, hand in hand with believers knowing that God has Won. We are filled with His Holy Spirit cause we’ve been saved upon that cross by God’s one and only Son.

Closer we get to midnight further from the setting sun so little time to get it right no matter how fast we run. Come to close to glory to look back to where I’ve been. The Lord God knows my story of how he cleansed me of all sin.

The clock is just reminder its hands are spinning round and the Lord’s return could be tonight those ready will be found. It’s almost time for Christ’s return to Rule and Reign for Good. Every tongue confess Christ is King how I am waiting for that sound.

What word may I form and deliver to grow, brighten or change the world? For in this quest of mastery to man, words are our greatest offering. Thereby the essential task of a learned man is to measure, shape, prepare and deliver the word that matters most and to equally forestall, refrain and abstain from delivering caustic or dismissive language. How then am I tempered in life by my own doing or epistemological influence to consistently locate, test and offer word that is productive, encouraging and fruitful?

For men seek power and there is more power found within the kind tongue than twenty armies muster. Equally acidic rhetoric may exponentially inflame or destroy that which is frail and expectant to maintenance. Therefore, we must embark upon study, practice and recalibration to develop mature assets in eloquence, comfort and descriptive hope if we ever hope to find the greatest authority available in this life, the power to transform the world around us. This assumes that I am a self sufficient being taking no influence, training or direction from my peers, tutors, elders or God. However we know immediately the inadequacy of our thinking as these influences will in fact produce the greatest impact upon our verbal delivery. Man is not a vacuum and does not go through life solely effected by his own counsel and apprehension. We are products of those voices that we choose as our guides to maturity. So in expectation of word mastery our choices must be made with wisdom and calculation if we expect to achieve optimization.

God makes sense. A review of Biblical reason and the sacrificial mission of a living God is by all account the greatest story of human achievement known to man. God’s Direction and word therefore becomes an essential study as man quests the pinnacle performance. Those who fear it for religiosity would never say the same of Plato or Plutarch which begs the immediate question why the thresholds of thought apply solely to the Word of God. Especially considering its pivotal position and man shaping content or impact upon our oral delivery and emotional eloquence. Study the philosophers but first study God for all the philosophers are offering commentary on that which God created. Second-hand thought is never better than original thinking. Do not be cajoled by lesser men into narrowing horizons by excluding the Greatest Word just to please the fear or hate of man.

Once sufficient literary content, grammar and vocabulary have been established the encumbrance transforms to one of voice/style discovery. Each must find his own voice or listen for the musings that play solely in their own heart. None of us want to be someone else we want to have their skills and then out perform them earning our ambitious acquaintance in fame. We always want to outdo our teachers, idles and Fathers. There are no copy cats only those who in so mimicking have admitted the superiority of those gone before us. Each of us is made unique and were always intended to deliver new flavors and content to the universe. So find your voice, even and especially when the building blocks of our own writing, speech and thought resemble the best of our teachers.

The rest as in life is practice. Life is its own meaning. The importance is found in the living, the doing the empirical breathing, thinking, speaking and acting given each of us for a number of years. Your word will become rich or poor by how your life is lived. It will become colored by the grief or joy you experience or maintain in this living. If you wish to change the world then your Words must be of sufficient content, structure and power to motivate others to that transformation. You alone can determine whether you are an edifying influence or succubus. To live and love and sing, speak or write for positive construct of others is the greatest achievements, though those who seek dominion will express their power in consuming all around them. As in all things the greatest power of life is in the choice. The choice of our words is the greatest expression and indication of our choices and our spiritual authority. Choose wisely for others are always listening and perhaps will be changed for the better by what you’ve shared.

Never wishing to brood I put down the sandelwood brush and hope for harmony, light and merry mirth to visit. The twisted image of contorted children burning in the fires of war bring tears and the twelve ton joy crusher. Lost ostensibly forever my reckoning of humanity with those I find most “human”. Married for the moment to an unappreciative mate I find myself searching for the dark, sullen hiding place of depressed men. My dreams are not the flashing nightmares of Adonis crazed by unsullied grace, but the deep focused tutorials of transformation’s voice appealing almost willing change. These are days for light hearted fellows who can look upon sin and grin in open admiration. This time of darkened stars, a sweet sooty smell of sweat and offal brought as offering in its impurity. These are the moments few when the fallen have their day. To the Will of God I pray my allegiant understanding knowing in foreshadowing the frailty and impotence of my capacity to rule this lot, this time, without a heart to share among them. I leave less convinced of my superiority, engulfed in the awareness of the separation between righteous and untoward.

I lift my voice in cry for mercy’s hope. To pierce the void and dull grueling gray I search for Nebula’s splash of super heated gasses thinking no darkness may shroud the delight of heaven’s fury. What soft hearted reason is life so easily rested from the breast of the perfectly pure? To see the tremors being upon the ridge of hand and pass to tapping toe as anger impoverished by starvation finds new porridge in the raging august heat of my heart’s regret. Where are we gone that there is no summer’s cause for jest and smiles fill the air of community’s wealth and repair? What forgotten land has replaced the pause of blossoms render to blood red, blackened vein in corrupted flesh? Must men of courage look upon such things with hope of breeding indolence or cause for ardent quest to bring home the measure and return that which had so intrepidly found lost. Men may search dark tunnel seeking that valorous moment when death is acquainted with itself, but we were only made to travel to such places for purpose and denying fear bring God’s Wrath to the hidden. Removing their supply we hope upon all righteous breath that man’s simple and faith filled escape the broad incisors of that gaping maw.

What will to man that God has not corrected in folly’s pursuit? What words too ignorant display the lack of man’s own sense, found immeasurable by sin and impure thinking? What day so short that will to reside at the foot of God never finds light in the bosom of those with candor and courage? What harm give man to children or wife or elder patron that undeserved shall bring any measure of faith or worth? Why to unworthy cause lend the sword arm of men destined for courageous venture? How measure a man’s life that ill spent moments find themselves reconciled with deeds so honest and real, they ought not be whispered in similitude? Do cry our souls the loss of man’s kind reason? What harm have we to bring that God would allow any measure of man or life the cause to purchase such unworthy conquest? To those who wish mill stone collar never stain the sight of men who love, Love. Mud wallows to swallow up all regard of Life and Lights brilliance demeaning flesh to terminal understanding. We shall not miss the grey swirling horror beneath bridge nor shall we ever forget its abomination by forgetting for one second that evil did capture the heart’s and minds of men.

April ends dreamingly captured in May’s allure of colorful promise and Sun drenched hope of June’s fellowship aplenty. Awash in life filled to robust measure seasoned with cinnamon spice and overwhelmed by haughty blossom. Nights longer than naps allow, I fall pray to the whispers and meandering reorganization of timely sent program change. Forgotten all that needs forgetting, open to the grand canal of wisdom and the gulf stream of unfinished words, set upon my tongue pre launch. What value has wanton expression but the timid or not so candid exercise of attentions gathered? A pawn so curtly expended and blushing as the Queen leaves her rightful place to wander.

How rapacious of Summer’s head dress displayed in advance of noon day rise. Surprise so sweet the fall of many to find in vision the reason for our collective madness. When did we sit so cautiously, in thought, inured by the Sun’s cleansing touch upon skin so white it explained Winter to a warm heart. No dash of radiant emotion or glow of palpable fate would save them from the dour dose of dusty clouds found penned in darkened scroll the incantations of romance. Why moist rose colored lips that match my glasses were doomed to express the calamitous imagination of twenty. Gone so swiftly retired promising nothing but taking it with it the baleful smells of cut grasses and the swelling unpleasureable swelter that the ground offered as breeze.

So soon left wanting the cleansing relief of sweat upon standing brow. Not the chill but the night approaching mentions with each passing star the coming cool and handfuls of harvest ripe. What sandman torches the dust to replace it with Autumn drops so large and sweet that the icy touch upon the hand’s back sponsors thought of sweaters and mulled wine in hearth kilned kitchens. This wind is true and hints at the cool night’s pleasure at bringing north facing slope to eastern rise. Fall, having done its work each green worker asks gravity’s assistance to sleep and live again come March’s Ide. What shame to heat the day so pleasantly then steal the same warmth from each heart by night’s fall. Still the noise of day as many prepare for the days when time slows its promenade.

Then the test of hearts and constitution wields its sword against the will of man. As winter calls to the Spring come don’t leave us long, we are left without green leaf having to dream once again imagining rebirth, growth and replanting. What launched on august whisper now shouts hearty as the shutters bang and the trees scratch against the roofshake. What icy nightmare awaits as we struggle to remain awake seeking the last breath of embers red hope. But all quests end and some not so speedily lead to the safety of old man’s reason as kindling bones and fatty bottom find embrace in woolen wreath wrapped thrice about. Day’s uncounted shed their hold upon our workings until suddenly that smell of rose upon the wind wakes us once more to the celebration of life’s cyclical promise, granting hopeful realization to frozen feet and wind tired eyes. We wake again to call of unfurled blossom and nectar’s tasty answer. To life we must until time bids us leave to the land of waking dreams.

Bereft of apology or excuse, I am left to contend with milieu and circumstance. Empowered by Joy I find my way to a belly shaking laugh and forget for a moment the pain that made me wince moments prior. Neither lie nor shame of taking the bait so handily prepared will capture my honor and take away from God’s Glorious stake and investment in my successes. For this is a land ruled by promise, truth and decision not left to the reluctant heart who seeks to board sans billet.

We are not the few but the many who have yet to awaken to God’s Loving Grace poured out for all that we may end the war with Him in perpetuity. The Time has arrived for all good people to make that decision that must be decided in this life span and will keep us from eternal achievement. For this is not a thing of works but a thing of understanding and acknowledging Sovereign Authority and the difference between request and commandment. God is not asking, He is offering but His Will is perfect and final so the Choice given in love still comes with a time limit and a complete revocation if not exercised in appropriate timing. In other use it before you expire.

This enemy is short winded, knowing that judgment sits just around the next turn in history they feel the pressures mounting and are compelled to cajole, deceive or sell you out of making the right Choice. To overcome them you must overcome your reluctance, rebellion and foolish wanton desires that will lead to spend everlasting embroiled in pain, darkness and fire. Make no mistake just because you hear the word fire do not believe that you will be surrounded in light but rather absolute darkness in the absence of God’s Living Breathing Light and Goodness. If that is what you want then dilly and dally with the wicked and you shall achieve the worst thing you ever requested.

I dream for America. Not an America of old but for a return to the faith that prompted God’s Gift of Freedom and inalienable authority of self governance. Without faith it is impossible to believe God, therefore a nation that is sovereignly granted inalienable rights and benevolence of Divine Prosperity must possess and demonstrate the requisite faith. How do we demonstrate faith well that comes from standing in great Courage against all odds believing upon God’s Righteousness and Promise. This is the perfect pregnant moment for us to display that faith that God may be pleased, by standing joyously in this time of trial fully dependent upon the mercy, power, Grace and benevolent promise of God we will find the access to His National blessing restored as He promised.

Looking for faith in the hollow belly of the World, but All it knew was hunger. Denying myself the last gulp of free air I plunged into the depths of a battle that was mine before its making. At the pleasure of the King’s hand I stand, wind testing as I lean I receive the products of destiny. What is time but the moments counted between relevance and safety? Luring my enemies into the cave I struck with light and fury to capture their resolve. In an instant we were quenched and the Lord’s relative peace sunk into the small spaces in between reality.

It is not charm that buoys man, nor the impudence that fills the mind with pride that will sail our ships to horizon’s edge. We are nonplussed, immunized against wisdom taught to measure everything with out pride, contained in the limited epoch of humanity. What then shall make a man more than he could have been. Training, pleasure, exercise, experience none but courage have control of night and flight. With the force of an age I release the weight of an angry temporary being’s fight for life upon those who think themselves immortal. They are greeted by the mist in expiration.

As God whispers to each man within his heart I strain to silence my own thoughts and listen for the pause that changes lifetimes. I snatch another breath from the heated fumes and wish for a time when legions did not carry the flag of netherworld, but fought for the beauty of life. We had stemmed the flow of our enemies advance, so fluid it oozed as blood over the lands we once gave freely by paper and pound. Now bullets and knife’s blade bade currency exchange for nothing was sold or bought for pleasure or measure of work or art but by the skill and dower hope of war.

Emotional pause to wish for something old or rather new to take the place of that which would could not imagine having. But time, opinion and flavor had all lost their influence upon the sharp will of man’s desire to conquer for God or again Him. The day of our making had expired and the moments we used had already begun eternity. This was the path all men must march not a march toward personal expectation or some grand dream but the road to annihilation or everlasting life that lay before each. That day mattered more than any of us had ever expressed or comprehended. Lines were drawn that would forever separate man by the parameters of faith and understanding. We had been set free from pawn status, having endlessly been moved upon board for players liking. Now we fought with an expanded set of weaponry in wisdom. Knowing neither dawn nor dark controls the outcome, but the Breath of God Himself.