This life to a rose

Shall I compare this life to a rose
Dancing in the wind and following the flow
Growing up towards the sun
Like the, body, soul and mind.
Petals fall down like the loved ones we've lost
Degraging are their bodies in the maneur of this world
Like the roots, you firmly ant yourself in what you believe.
Life has its trials that sting when they start to stick,
That is the thorne for every little stem.
You bring forth a stronghold while wilting away,
And pray to the heavens, the potter (the Lord), that you may
Be with him in his beautiful home
In a vase cared for after your roots are gone
Off of your roots another rose grows
And then goes the cycle around and again,
Until the day the earth is broken

The house in the middle

I swayed off the barkwood path
Just following a friend
To see, just see what was on the other side
And what might could have been.
A fearsome beast or evil being
From whence the scene be told
The house The HOUSE, OH BLOODY HOUSE
'TWas far from being gold.

I run away, but sworne to stay
In just what could have been
The house, The HOUSE, OH DREADFUL HOUSE
Is all that would have been.
If what happened here hadn't happened there
Only to sooth the evil,
Maybe this just wouldn't be
death for many people

Though I have my ups and downs
My life will never be
The way that I invisioned it
At the begining.
I try and try to turn around
With struggles in my way.
I realize then and know right now
That I had strayed away.

In between two dreams

Caught in between two dreams, one another
When all the world fades away,
I close my eyes
And then realize
What a fool I am not to pray
For the enemies of me
From whom I was fleeing. 
And now am seeing
What could my enemies be
But a silent sound
On the cold hard ground
And I but a spec in the sand
With my armor of all, including my sword,
Or them a raging wind
Silenced once again
By the fury of the LORD.
Caught in between two dreams, one another
When HOLY matters evade
I open my eyes
And then realize
The world is a giant cliche
The one thing I know, I keep to me.
The wicked in books
Come out in the works
Of a misled leader to be.
And the towns of men start to scream,
Yelling for help,
Trying for help
But these leaders are no human being.
Then the men, their spirits broken to pieces,
And the air was quiet
No more the riot
Not even were heard of more screaches.   

My Psalm

Make me, my heart like wax o' LORD;
Strengthen my soul and mind.
Let wisdom, faith, friend, and cry
Be riches to my own.
Mold me to thou what is worthy of serving
Thy glorious power divine,
For I am not worthy
Lest it be thouest decree.
Let me not falter in serving thy name,
But bringeth forth thy word.
Please, enter thy home in my dearest heart,
And mercy and humble me.

Make me like wax and unlike rock,
A heart so wicked, so hard.
Their mind be weak, yet seem so strong,
They whom hast passionate tongue,
Yet still turnest away.

Make my heart so unlike rock,
But malleable to thy touch.
Clingeth to my heart, O' LORD,
Be victory in thy name.

The Things I Carry

I carry this heart
That is yearning for a new,
This faith that I have
Will I carry too.

My Book, YOUR words,
All them I herd.

I carry these burdens
But need to bring
All them to you,
To you, my KING.

I carry not much
In this world
That I know
But the things that I carry
Soon will be shown

I carry this heart
That I know may not change
I know I need help
Though to men it seems strange

I carry this pen, a pad
And a brain...
And so I write to you,
To you again.