Come home to find you’ve been arrested

What for, I don’t know

suck it up deal with it. bury it deep

Truth is I can’t handle this.

cast a weathered glance up to the sky,

Lash out in anger, demanding why?

Yet the heavens are silent,

go to school everything’s fine.

There I’m a different person,

living a different life.

time goes by  your’re seated on your bed.

I don’t know what’s wrong, your unresponsive.

call for help the ambulance arrived,

all of a sudden, your’re just fine.

They leave, they think I lied,

now your’re angry at me.

Few months pass by, and its time to graduate.

But you never made it, too sick or was I mistaken?

I scanned all the faces. You weren’t there in the crowd.

I received all the accolades when they called my name..

offering my thanks to the people gathered with a hollow smile

But where were you?

I’m dying inside.

Just wanted a taste of normality

It was not meant to be

Yet someone was watching,

someone was smiling, and crying with me.

My friend of friends, and my king of kings..

How can I be angry at my only hope?
Raise my fist in protest
When my history shows
Many points I should have died
But his intervention
Is now my reason for being
A child of the king,
Oh friend, how can I make you understand?
God is not to blame for your tragedies..
He did not cause them,
Evil was not  his design
He didn’t author wickedness,
His plans are not mine.
How can you still be angry when you consider who he is ?
Then consider this,
torture, mockery, nails driven through wrists,
All for the sake of all consuming love.
But I do not understand his ways,
where was he when?
His answer, right beside you, even in the deepest of pits.

Careful now as you step inside

The war zone that is my mind

Avoid the craters and the pits

And the shrapnel lodged within.

Embedded deep where none can see

The casualties remain  

Apply a tourniquet stop the bleeding.

A healing hand beckons

But I can’t, or do I fear revealing

The cause behind the scenes of these weaponized memories.

 can I truly be free?

the choice remains with me.

Play for keeps, lose everything.

Force a grin, aim to please,

 While inward peace remains elusive.

Now the rules have changed 

Stop the presses, Lets rearrange,

time  to remove pleasure’s stain

Breathe anew heavenly thought,

For eternal purpose we have been bought.

No longer does sin rule over man,

Rather it’s covered by the sacrificed lamb.

You see the sun shining in the sky,

And you give me a word of thanks,

When it crosses your mind,

Yet somehow it seems,

I am forgotten when it comes to the little things.

The air I gave you to breathe,

The water I gave you to drink.

You get caught up in the things themselves,

And forget to remember me.

So I sent my prophets of old,

Bringing forth my cry,

That you may come home.

Oh my people, how long, how long?

Yet still you drove them away,

Leaving me out in the cold.

So at long last,

the time had finally come.

In one final act of desperation,

I sent to you my very own son,

Hoping you would heed his words,

And your hearts would be won.

Instead he was beaten and flogged,

Unrecognizable, he was nailed to a cross.

Hung between two thieves,

It was there that the whole world saw,

my final hearts plea, my final call.

Infection, burrowing beneath the skin 

a soulish disease, calling forth memories and flashbacks  no one wants to relive.

Yet I know what’s needed

an antiseptic of his blood to cleanse and mend

but that means facing reality.

The thought of that makes me cringe.

Bury this thing deep 

But your eyes see past this mask I portray,

Down where soul and spirit play.

Nothing is hidden from your sight,

Even the deepest darkness is as open to you, as the brightest light.

So then, its time to come clean.

Wash myself with his blood remedy.

On this day we celebrate freedom ringing ever more

we contemplate the cost of being  held in tyranny’s scorn.

A simple question was asked, Mister Jefferson what have we been given??

His response still rings in history’s halls,

“A republic, if you can keep it.

I am a mystery, an enigma,
striving to live in the realm of the undefined.
I am but dust carried away,
upon the wings of eternity.
Yet even in this,
I can not deny,
the omnipresent hand,
that remains my guide.

“What is truth?”  asked Pilate perplexed

As the author of truth stood before him.

Yet when the nails were driven and the scourging complete

and it was all said and done,

could He ever forget the one

who spoke not a word

While the masses mocked and cursed?

Then on the third

God put death in reverse.

Now I can’t help but wonder

Was Pilate astounded

When twelve men once scattered,

Now in boldness proclaimed

Resurrection from the grave?