dreams, the goals of millions,thrashed by corruption, the choices sickening,join in or your next into the coliseum, the clever spies, the spirit they interfere with, the ways of God they have no time for,bought,sold, their gains stashed off shore, does it need to be said,the meter of emotional damages arrives at the Holy Door,the howling wind,the storm,the strange events, God loves his creation much more than anyone living, why those corrupt men,they never thought the day would arrive,when signs from the heavens could clearly be seen, to investigate, those, who do emotional harm. Why, well, that’s for your head to wonder on, amen.
I don’t need God, your breath fails you, your heat beat changes, your fear internalizes, and whom do you ask for help, the number of times, who can keep count.
The child loses the smile, is not cheerful, has become snide, has seen his dreams disappear, and we wonder why horrors occur; those who harm the spirit do so much harm, and while the lawyer might give you advice,he or she can never forgive you, that harm.
Solomon watched the dreams pass his eyes, the hope, there was real hope in many eyes, and small children were more alert, all knowing it seems, as written in olden times. And we need to provide space, for those lights.
Solomon heard the rantings of a so called preacher type, you can’t impress the Almighty God, little did the man know, was he trying to be the wedge between man and God this man, farming them for his own good, probably, amen.