I sometimes ponder whether our souls simply conjure

the vices that mold our souls into monsters,

or if heavy hearts simply sink like lead

when life's violent seas bring disease and death.

One thing's for sure, our vision is blurred.

Dark clouds have enshrouded us -- truth is obscured.


Through the logs in our eyes, we don't recognize

our actions are mirrored; our fear synchronized.

The change we say we long to see

is not the change we choose to be.

Instead we'll wait and pray the gate

will keep the wolves at bay.


The demons skulk outside our doors,

beckened inside -- our minds are whores

'cause envy and hatred invade, unopposed.

Our thoughts roam free while our eyes are closed.

Pride grows inside, it swells in our heads,

then into our hearts, it quickly spreads.


The conflict that courses through our veins

scorches our souls 'til nothing remains;

just bitterness, rage, remorse and despair

abide in our spirits when love disappears.

To end nations' warfare, the solution might be

to limit the friction within our psyche.


With some redirection, we just might replace

our selfish reflection and prosaic pace

with righteous intentions and actions that follow.

At current state, a space remains hollow,

'cause, try as we may, to become complete,

our souls remain frozen in cold conceit.


Peace starts inside; every war that we fight

fights to be freed from behind our eyes.

Inside our hearts -- where we hide our sins -

- that's where the onset of conflict begins.

So until the beasts of our dreams die out,

faith will, in turn, be dwarfed by doubt.


... And without the Redeemer's divine intervention,

"from the cold within," we're resigned to this tension.


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