I sit upon this rock,
and stare up at the sky,
with brilliance the stars shine,
to recreate would be meaningless to try.
The trees shake above me,
the night entails such things,
they sneak about, hunting and hiding,
and through the world their cries ring.
I am blinded,
yet I can see better than before,
the world surrounding me is great,
but the adventure has greater in store.
God's voice booms through the darkness,
he made everything such light,
he laid his hand upon me,
that's what makes darkness so bright.
A Weary Soldier
Tired eyes watch the weary reflection of the soldier,
who walks without pride or judgment,
and fears none but God.
When he takes up a duty,
he does not run away or hide,
but goes with twice the effort.
The cross that beats upon his chest,
as he runs down the path to victory,
encourages this weary soldier to run with the speed of a cheetah.
The chain that bears the weight of his cross,
as he goes into battle for the weak,
encourages this weary soldier to fight with the power of a lion.
The taunts and jeers that come against the cross,
as he marches in between battles,
remind this weary soldier to take pride in none but God,
and the words of Jesus echo in his mind,
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Lost in a Wonderland
Lost in a wonderland.
A place I never wish to leave.
Fog covers here in the morn.
The sun shines in the noon.
And the moon never leaves the sky.
When the cries sound off,
the horns quake the air,
the sound of a million warriors pulling out their weapons.
Battle must begin.
It is in the noon that we fight through till night.
When the fog begins to gather
we all flee to the woods,
they up to the mountains,
not to return for a while.
It is deep in the night as we drift off to sleep,
laying our weapons down to rest,
as we curl up in the trees,
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