This flesh just reaps corruption,
while the Spirit harbors life;
the flesh knows not the Spirit,
all it knows is constant strife.
Impure thoughts bring down the man,
but the Spirit lifts him high;
carnal thoughts bring only death,
you're born, you live, you die.
The Holy Spirit brings us love,
and a kingly resurrection;
born again as kings and priests,
without our imperfection.
Spiritual darkness brings decay,
while the Holy Spirit lives;
we're transformed to spirit-beings,
with all the glory that it gives.
Mass confusion fills this world,
the fingers spreading everywhere;
yet there's a little flock that knows,
the awesome power of a prayer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem