A soul gone astray, very far in the land of the dead
utterly corrupt and rotten in that cavernous pit
impudent and stiff hearted, assuredly beyond the crunch
hatred and anger, Alas, a staple
hell-bent, only the devil would care, just a kiss of death
a lost ball in the weeds
kept in stitches to the devil dancing at his grave.
An explicit memoir to the the erstwhile persona of me
Who am i to escape such hosts and Legion
what muscle have i contra those paranormal hooligans and foes
corporeal strength is all i\' got, too weak within
no sun, no moon, not even a star of hope
neither dream nor imagination of rejuvenation
palpitate and plummet is all i could
solely left was to surrender and submit to the devil.
Then boom! the trigger was pulled upon my prior
i could discern sound idiosyncratic
chains breaking and falling
my Redeemer
the altruistic Cadre, blameless Lamb
functioning as meticulous like a clock
bringing my being into personification again
nursing me back to health
scoffing every dominant sin
juxtaposing together my heart, my soul, my mind
in the destruction of their curious paradox
paying ransom for my iniquities
i have a new breath of fresh air.
the Lord
Sufficient is His Grace