How much i miss the Father of my Fathers.
How far I go to find his rest.
How deep in debt is my heart.
How my comfort displeases flesh.
To north south east and west
and the underside of my skin
falls by drip and drop into the well
this weary travelers eyes are dim.
Forget me not is on the wind
yet searching follows ages pass
unto my birth and dying breath
it’s all i know until the last.
Of words i’m sickened underneath
and actions lost to time
and people’s temple they forgot
and chipped away at mine.
Of rage I have hindered not
and angry brows they stay
WHO HATH DEMANDED MY OWN SOUL
AND CURSED IT ALL THIS DAY?
How much I miss my Father’s house
How far away it is with blame
How cursed it has been taught to us
How Naked we do shame.
Of this account I hold to thee
where children are bought and sold
the mothers prepare the young for death
the fathers rob their life untold
All for the reason of their desire
to twist and destroy our greatest gift
that man may never know his love
his birthright heavens only lift!
This wretched time of thoughtlessness
victims villains cruel delight
I’ll never bow you sickened pig
my soul lives long after the night
and where I stand alone on earth
without my Father’s name
is of no eternal consequence
i love him always just the same
Because there I do remember all
though none recall the story
It is my right to know myself
and praise God for all his Glory
For He made man to know good works
and feel passion burning bright
in bliss and joy and harmony
this candle still gives light
That they who cry in sorrows arms
Will one day rise to glow
on this earth maybe never still
in after stories sure to know.
until then mortal Enemy
my bones and spirit slip away
though to the last i have not forgotten
from genesis until this day.
I claim what’s mine forever more
not due to my own worth
because my Father had chosen so
to share of his own works.
I claim the love inside of me
if ever it be known
let dragons fall away in fear
and shadows no more to be shown.
I claim my wants and desire too
God given ALL are they
In righteousness this rod of iron
reminds me of the better way.
How much I miss my Father’s House
Where beautiful comes to play
and reaching out with hands of Joy
We share as one in every day.
Photo “Ryan” ©2011 Colleen Ranney – Used by Permission
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+Ryan-Ranney – +Ranney-Studios
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