His Words

The power to which he creates

The power to which he destroys

Are words spoken before time

Building blocks to the pyramid of questions which seeks answers

Action to which nothingness becomes an entity of mystery a charter of destiny and the weaver of faith

The words I speak comes from my ancestors, the voice of those beyond the grave

Deep within the chasms of Hades

Where escape was impossible

Until the one so blameless, without blemish entered

There his words was the power that held the foundations of Hades together

So Hades feared to hold him

My ancestors told me the words to which he spoke

Freedom from the misty brim stone of the burning spear

So the words I speak was born before words were formed, they will never be gone

They stand beyond galaxies and make their home in the soft cavities of the heart

These words I speak belongs to the master and the one who he send

To put an end to all words and say

It is finished

So I not  dare say more cos his word has done all

To remit my remorse of penitence

To stand in my stead and be grieved for my punishment met

So he brightens my darkness

Not this dark skin so tainted by the sun

Not this dark soot placed in by the smoke

But of this dark heart

Matured in disobedience

A heart smoked out with sin

This words I speak are the words

Of my ancestor

Reminding me of whom Jesu’ his

My savior my Lord my shepherd, my King




7:14 PM





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