Warriorpoet9

Sin and Salvation

This air goes black as a cloud lays to rest

setting itself gently over our heads

i reach through the smoke but you’re gone

can you feel your lungs tighten?

this fog has pinned a death wish on your heart

the pressure thickens around me

does it change you like it changed me?

you thought things were bad then

at least then nobody knew

now you’re stuck, framed in a one way cage

with everyone looking in

you’re the only one with no way out

your eyes are open wide, soaking in

all the darkness you can fit

since you see nothing else

why not make the most of it?

hold your breath and dont let go

the grip of your fists force the blood

through your veins

faster and thicker each movement

where’s your next move?

when the morning arrives

and the cloud is lifted

what will you let yourself see?

will you be able to set the black free?

or just let it eat you away…

Vision

The world and its soul placed behind a disguise

of our human instinct and failures

we see with our hands instead of our eyes

and forget why we’re even involved

we attempt to help others yet get lost on the way

shamefully, we never realize

what a great difference one heart could make

so many dreams of our friends we’ve denied

i watch the tears outline your cheeks

today as you lat down your heart

i clench my fists and shake my head

for what reason did this ever start?

in a world dying of heartless pain

i will choose my few words with precision

you see no day soon will these tears be erased

not until we can alter our vision

Godsend

A new song each morning, captures your heart

 with a word of praise, each day you start

 a joyful heart, and unburdened soul

 oh to know the God, who holds you close

 His love you whisper, through the crowds

 His words you speak, without a doubt

 your heart is fixed, His light you seek

a life like yours, helps me to see

angels come, in any weather

hope restored, in Him forever

rest your eyes, for to me you’ve shown

that through our Christ, all things are known.

Messenger of sorts

The hope of the nations, faith of a people

Have made their way into my hands

I cry out for help, cry out for peace

All love has run dry from this land

This back is tired, these fearful eyes

Your choice must be a mistake

Taking broken wings and tortured lungs

As your messenger of choice

I stand among angels, holy disciples

Why God, would you even want me?

I am humbled before such righteousness

Let me stumble yet never collapse

Allow your precious plans to consume this soul

Till the end of my last day has passed.