A Quiet
Young Bird

I pray to a God whom I do not know. It's unclear to me now — is he friend or foe?
I have fallen from grace with that God up above; I’ve lied and I’ve cheated, I’ve never known love.
He came for me once but the grapevine had burned. None would sing for a quiet young bird.
I walked away from that mess — I thought I was free — and that only this God knew my destiny.
And I lobby for heaven day in and day out. But I remain rejected and I’m filled with doubt.

Wednesday, 29. October, 2008 · , , &

Death Knell

I’ve heard the clamor of Church bells
I’ve heard the jangle of Christmas cheer
And the voice of my Grandmother saying I’m a free man.

Wednesday, 2. January, 2008 · , &