A typical twilight of sorts,
caught in my mind at this late hour,
twisting and turning my innermost,
sentiment towards power.
I certainly would go for wine,
a bottle of beer that I may be candid;
and say to hell with all the swine,
that plague this world like cancer.
my heart thumped, I felt weak,
and fell to my knees, awe struck,
that I could preach autonomy,
how fragile I am, without God.
I fear to speak, to say my feelings,
for what they’ll do to spite me,
I cannot help what I am, a frail man,
seeking refuge, in my Lord.
on days like this, I understand,
what brings us men, nearer to Him,
that love between a boy and his mother,
that compassion towards another.
what is that barrier, keeping men,
from returning to their lawful creator,
but a case of anger, a cold arrogance,
a sickness without medicine.