My generation blessed for her sake
Blessed among noble women
Her womb, the womb of glory
The glory of my pride
Broad is the road
cunning is the movement
unstable the feelings
uncountable the foot prints
Can a man forget his soul and yet live?
Can a man forget his flesh and yet breathe?
How be a man forget His Spirit and yet love?
What a man knoweth not, how can he worship?
Last night I had a dream
If it were a dream I don't no
But in my dream I died
A shadow murdered my pride, my dignity, my strength, my courage
I found me when I lost YOU
A DREAM of my reality you were
I miss you only from my LIPS
I love you to CURE argument
Do we trod the famished road with the single hope of an oasis at the end?
The desert sands shall give no mercy to a man of faith
We don't have to go 360 degree
Now is time we go the 180
You don't have to climb the highest mountain
For all you looking for is withing you
This is written to that preacher of the gospel out there who lives as if he doesn't live. That one out there who is struggling to be heard or recognized. To the early morning town criers, to that man who has become a tenant on the prayer mountain. To you who as said no to the fast track in ministry and decide to wait patiently on God in holiness, truth and spirit. To that one who can't even feed his family right now. Non pay his kids fees. Now is your time. Hold on tight, a new page has just been open. Congratulations...
TO THE UNKNOWN PREACHER
FALLING = RISING
If I never fall
I never rise
Today I don't want to see you
My soul is tempted with your presence
Your eyes refreshes your memories in my soul
Your words make's me forget the law