Once I walked, the Earth a winter’s grip, my home,
Frozen heart, tortured soul; hollow megaphone.
I fell into a hole, racked and set with pain,
By the grace of YAH, none of that death remains.
I’m a watery bag of flesh, blood and bone,
A singular spirit, but never alone.
Bound by the Spirit of YAHU’s Holy Breath,
My mind — winter’s war, sifting lies, frozen mesh.
Wisdom, a discernment of the words of lies,
Taken from The Book given through those more wise.
I tread where demons freeze, and flee words of truth,
Their power broken, by acts of those ruthless.
They thought to slay the King; chain us to death’s grip,
Not understanding, truth brings a seismic shift.
Now, freedom from The Beast comes to everyone,
No Priest required, through confession of The Son.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 1:55pm on May 24, 2025 via server WEBX2.