Enigma * Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

God did create my inner inspiration, targeted those dark deep matters, given this low breath of air push taken, freeing His guidance to combat solid darkness: delivering my x-ray eyes.


The keys given hold my serious condition, eternal aims are disclosed to show my destined fate; molded by His Hand from dust, I am blessed to roam with life: breathing air, by His breath like Him.

I stand the Royal image of Himself, where I am there to exist; seated alone in a temple, within the earth: shielded by that truth to me witness of His right On High.


I am to behold my progress, and then upgrade; learning about the ways of my origin in Spirit; see God's intent in every tiny situation: proving facts escaping outside the norm of its torment.


I am to test all things and confirm each fact; by this, I do to serve willingness, do checked tasks, set trails for myself of fears known: with their conflict and tribulations.


My deemed to be suffering, crossed in its afflictions, in pave accomplished virtues to be measured, given to me by weighing their full value: reveal my worth.


God molded me, had a life there that exists, yet to be defined; made from grains of dust out of dry ground, permitting air to live, told by Him: I'm like Him.


Me, in this Noble likeness of, Self, viewing a final end, or exchange to death; held totally in found placement: enclosure of my body underground.

Where is that breath?