Repentance
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I view thine eyne as scorching flames of hell,
Yet hell itself is sweet in fiery well;
I pray the worldly pleasures to provide
Me with thy presence, and thou be my bride.
An old Jewish folktale says that words are feathers set loose in the wind; once free, you can never take them back. I had forgotten that story. But my words are poison ivy rather than feathers.
Preacher, Preacher, call me to the stand.
I have some confessions, truth is freedom I am desparate to grab.
When I speak my mind, I find that no one understands me from the inside.
Preacher, Preacher, call me to the stand.
I have some confessions, truth is freedom I am desparate to grab.
When I speak my mind, I find that no one understands me from the inside.
Like a tsunami rises from the sea;
death arises out of life;
every being has it's time;
every person the appointed day;
how we die is not our choice;
will we go in joy or strife;
She draws with graphite
and charcol and pens
I draw with my words
that is all I know and have ever known.
My grandma teaches me with
paints on her lap
I was a "messy painter," not a
By the rivers of Babylon,
we sat down there,
We wept there,
When we remembered we have abandoned Zion.
Why are you lying to yourself?
You know that lies don't last forever.
The truth needs to be told.
Be still my soul
The lord is on your side
Bear patiently
The cross of grief n pain
God has started his work
To guide my future
As he has the past
Be still my soul
Lord I'm coming home
I've wandered far away from you
The paths of sin too long I've trod
I've wasted many precious years
I now repent with bitter tears
I'm tired of sin and straying lord
Everyone has a flaw
That makes them unique
Every mistake
Wish could retake
A teacher we hate
That laughs at our fate
He father of lies
Larks at our lives
When suffer we
HE'S LIVIN OFF A REPUTATION THAT HE ONCE HAD,
HE DOESN'T READ HIS BIBLE ANYMORE IT JUST FADED AWAY LIKE
SOME KINDA FAD.
NOW IT JUST SITS IN HIS ROOM ON A DUSTY SHELF,
A day without worries is the day my bodies buried,
Call me a sinner....
But repentance is what wil save me from the furry.
Consistency was never a nickname,
and i dont wona use the same old lines that im just human.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Sweetheart"
"I love you"
I write for the one who gave me brown hair and eyes,
For the one who sang me my favorite lullabies.
The swing set he built, my rocking horse by hand,
Hell is his empty syringe
And the searing pain of his emptiness.
Hell is the heat of the absence
That grows hotter in his presence.
Hell is the tears that evaporate