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Praise


I sing in praise of that radiant vision

that sees us bonded together in peace.

A settling of accounts, an end to division

that has prevented any cleansing release.

I sing in praise of that one true song

that elevates the spirit to a higher plane.

It is only in service to that voice I belong

and through it I will live until nothing remains.


I sing in praise of that wondrous light

that brought me to you, and you took me in.

Your love was just a habit you indulged despite

your lack of convictions, and the stench of sin.

I sing in praise of those healing hands

that can mend the land and heal all scars.

I sing in praise of the Lord of Song’s demands,

though I too often have sang in darkened bars.


And to you that have no love, what can I say?

Your lives must be without conflict or merit.

I have much to be grateful for, and many debts to repay,

a litany of failure so noble I cannot bear it.

I sing in praise of the purity of our heart,

the ignorant ambition we so desperately pursue.

I sing in praise of the passion of my art

when to the poem of life it remains true.

J~ Excellent again.

Just one note: I 'sang'; I 'have sung'.

~Makera

Of "Praise" do I send praise. This one speaks to me.

Regards, Witty Owl.

J~ Now I really like that, no mistake!