Benny Jay

This stain, a plague of innocence shed, we bled, the day we fled, from the glory of our risen King. How long will we run from his heart, how long will we cry alone? Is this all the strength we beg to live on? There’s so much more, but we stick to our guns, until they fire and leave us in hell swimming in a bastards blood. We’ve become parasites, in love with lights that shine away casting shadows of decay. There’s nothing left, not a hint of change, not a love of stains, set out by our creator, to show us his depths. They stain your hands, either with righteousness or guilt. The holes set apart his sheep from these degrading goats. Personal opinion has about 1 percent validity, if it is true that the Father has set everything in its place in its time. Nothing can be given and nothing can be taken, now we’re fakin, mock births, let’s talk hurt, as we flirt with death, breathing cold bloodstained breaths, leavin bloodtrained steps. We’ve got a desperate need, there’s a separate seed, that does deeds beyond these finite weeds. It gets beneath the scars, uplifts our blackened hearts, and seals these cracks and marks, that leave us broken. We need something more, we’re hell-marked whores, without blood, grace, and mercy, we’re no more than eye sores. Given hope we spit at the rope You offer us in times we float down and down and down. We’re frowns and frowns and frowns, with no hope and no protection from death. They’re inevitable things, cosmic destiny brings, through your universal rings of thought. You’re not, unidimensional, your love was intentional, unconventional, we submit to your truth. It’s only by Your grace!!!Free Layouts