I'm the epitome of holy misfit.
‘cause I couldn’t fit in,
Not into where I was coming from;
Not into where I was going yet.
I could n’t fit comfortably
into where I am per time.
My heart is always stirring, my spirit yearning .
My mind is continually in motion.
Saying there’s more…
I can only create, and recreate till I die
I am not fulfilled till I see and seek Him.
I can boldly pioneer
Some sort of replica within me!
My soul longs for thee!
Oh! God of the freedom world
from such fanaticism of religion and dogman here.
I am left without afore
I am left an option; but to live
I’m left to die but, yet I’ll reach
and that is to reach for the stars
To gaze till I blink no more
To wait, wail until I see the star!
Until the daystar arise in my heart .
all I’ve is mire, myrrh and mind
all I was told is myth and mirth
All might have gone
but all I am is right here
on the inside of me.
All I have does not matter to me now
all I am is on the line.
I'll yet praise Him, until I see Him.
I’ll yet try and test all these creative things within,
this “creatorial” and creative-oral ability within me.
This what I will yet birth
this "thing" within that is crying to me:
“…for the last time!”
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