TheDiabeticKnight

The Wind howling, Whistling in my ear, I hear the calling, Of the one most dear. Sanctity, mercy, and forgiveness he says, Without these, a beast is bred, Anger and malice, Crucified and dead. The grass sways, To the cool wind's touch, He's bearing my weight, Refusing a crutch. As the cool wind blows, It sends shivers down my spine, From his halo a-glow, I cherish my time. In his heavenly kingdom, He does not boast, Though I am the catered, And he is the host.

Shine, bright morning light, The children call for your sight, But as these children run and play, One becomes a stray. Suffocated by darkness, Encased in fright, Never to see again, The bright morning light. Shine, bright morning light, The children call for your sight, Wanting your warmth on their face, Never to feel your warm embrace. Crashing down upon his dreams, Blood trickles on the scene, One in the arm, two in the chest, Prey, fallen into the vulture's nest. Shine, bright morning light, The children call for your sight, Singing in the valley, Bleeding in the streets. Shine, bright morning light, The stray lamb ca