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1. |
Divorce
03:11
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Let love be cherished and never abandoned. I know I could never earn your love and I can only learn to love and love never fails. Though lavished on us failures, along with the blind we stumble over many things only to find that the wretched find a way to praise their idols. That we the wretched find a way to praise our own idols that don’t move or speak. And with efforts not seen and words not heard by the deaf, blind and dumb, with no pulse but the trigger of a gun held to your head. To my head. To our head. Because we’re all just members of one body right? And this is self-inflicted. Oh my God, this is madness. Good intentions never hurt so good. But you say, “Leave the dead for the dead and dying.” My friend our God is living and He is love. // When I am inches away from insanity and feet away from any faith that could ever keep me sane from all these thoughts in my brain, and though my heart may not be whole, I can say, “It is well with my soul.”
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2. |
Remission
05:08
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So great an ocean poured out from the lips of God to wash me. So sharp a sword to penetrate that I would know ‘only He can heal my every wound.’ But why so downcast oh my soul. Why so heavy-laden? No. So saving is my savior far above the sin of sinners. Though so high a mount, so deep a love commands to tear down. And how we take such pride in building all these walls to hide our face from so great a grace. // Would you pardon me even when I fail to believe? Because all my iniquities are crippling these extremities. And I’m caught under the weight of affection I have never known. But I’m left here with a choice. // This demands a response. This demands my all. This demands surrender. Did you burn in me? Let me see. If I’ve never seen I guess I can’t believe. Because If I’ve never felt a single thing. I’m dying out with nothing left to say. The time is crumbling as I decay away. // No more bloodshed. Behold, I am a man of unclean lips among a people who shake their fists at the idea that there is purpose in the pain that is promised me. And now I’m struggling to take hold of these words that I am told but I’ll declare them over my dead body, “Speak life to these dry bones.” Your blood speaks a better word.
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Sea of Surrender Melbourne, Florida
Post Hardcore trio with elements of spoken word poetry from Central FL, USA.
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