God
We are the lampposts in the streets...
Wandering fae dances with the leaves
in her hair and moonstone reflecting...
Last night I calmly knelt to pray,
to God for more insight...
She is freezing in this weather.
But why...
Centuries of bitterness
never ending wars...
So I'm told...
Its the good that die young...
Iansan
Lady of the Winds...
Like a scar covering perfect skin
the shadows of dusk cover me...
Predestined,
Molded in the womb...
Hypnotized by wretchedness,
Wrapped in filthy rags...
The healing power of love.
It comes from our Father above, the God who IS...
Desiring guidance and undeserved mercy
I turn away leaving all my dreams behind...