All we like sheep have gone astray.
Drawing lines in the sand we picked a side
and demonized the other.
Removing our clothing to reveal what’s inside
We embrace the lone wolf mentality and fight our own brother.
Our shepherds go at it hook and crook,
There are no wolves in sheeps skin.
Only wolves quoting a book.
All their howling makes such a din
It drowns out my every question.
If there’s safety in the pack, why are we all so alone?
In search of the truth I left my home.
In my pride I imagined I was Jacob, in the night
I went looking for a shepherd to fight.
Dawn found me pinned,
only by my own ghosts
Grasping after the wind.
The pain in my hip is only psychosomatic
I guess if I really want it dislocated I’ll have to do it myself.
I’ve never been one to run from a fight
But now I’m wondering when all this warring will ever cease
You’re rod and your staff they confront me.
Sometimes I write stuff like this and I think "one day I'll finish this and put it on the blag." Well, we all know how doing it right turns out. Or doesn't. So here is my work in progress.