Looking thru life’s muddy water.
As if it was Clear Ocean pacific.
Ears filled with the colorful words of the deceiver
My mind is stained by the beauty of sin.
Innocent thoughts falling to the bottom like sands in the hour glass.
I subdue the beast with the two edged sword of my father.
Arising from my death like slumber.
The last grain fell before the hour is rotated by the aegis of time.
A vague memory of the battle is but residue from the daily redemption of a stained mind.