Thou art my chosen
The mouthpiece of my prophecy
Hand of my authority.
Thy knowledgeous acumen
Who dare stand the face of thy effrontery
The bolt of thy voice so gallant that
Thy echoes deracinated the most burly mountain.
Thou spread forth the windows of thy eyes
My heart is pierced against my soul,
Drawn on these gallows of despair
I furrow through the burrows of my sorrow-
Yet upon those angst of hope,
You are a treasure whose value cannot be measured.
Your being, unique and incomparable.
Like you, is no other;
Made from man and to man brought,
That he may appreciate and
Like the others name. But;
At the sight cried he, what a woe!
Lurked in the lonely night,
I groped like the blind in search of light
Begging for a sight
To ease the angst of my fright.
Bright and beautiful smiles this day...
With splendours of pleasure and glory,
When God retired to His box of creativity and
Deep in reasoning he went yoga
Can I ever still believe there's true love...
Who would now stand to convince me
That out there is someone special who
Gently into the bright future I sway;
Then I met her so fair on my way and
To her beauty a gaze I never say nay. For
In her I see the face of my Cinderella.
And when the storm is over,
I shall again rejoice;
I shall again drink from the cup of my jubilation
For my sorrow shall be no more