You looked at my life; my actions and words,
singing chords like birds, adding fifths and thirds.
You looked for a reason, provoking my treason
to fall into sin for a spell or a season.
You tried to seek Will,
but the sequel to my story’s
already written, marked by glory.
And the gory part of Heaven,
is the Feast of the Unleavened,
reminding us of the trust we put in God,
our doors shod with blood.
The flood of Noah was used to show a
remission of sins,
a baptism used to cleanse
the flock that’s blocked with blinders
Satan’s little reminders.
Tools of destruction
that’s the instruction he gives
as long as Christ lives.
But the pathetic perpetrator pleases people pretending passion perplexes purity;
portraying paradoxes of ‘nada’ as his execution of doubt.
The route of delusion
is filled with the illusion
is the fusion
of his mind games put together.
So just remember when you tether
between the Holy One and Satan
that the blatant liar
is banned to the fire