A Surrendered Mind.

Status: Finished

A Surrendered Mind.

Status: Finished

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A Surrendered Mind. A Surrendered Mind.

Poem by: ScarfFreak

Genre: Song Lyrics

Houses:

Poem by: ScarfFreak

Details

Genre: Song Lyrics

Houses:

Summary

Poetry, but it came out like lyrics.

Summary

Poetry, but it came out like lyrics.

Content

Submitted: January 02, 2012

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Content

Submitted: January 02, 2012

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(Paragraphs Are Being A Bit Gay, Sorry.)

Realisation comes from the mind, comes from the wise.

And the Catholic schools which blind opinions,

The path to lead is the path of faith.

From the mind lets grab realisation;

And my mind tells me we're going down, without hope of a saviour.

My wise tells me we're going down, without hope.

I'm not one to block belifs,

But can you tell me that you can see redemption for this life?

There's no messianic form watching,

Only a wise mind telling us we're going down, without hope.

I'm not a preacher, a prophet, but a soul.

I'm not a pretender, a fake, but a soul.

We are taught, the bible is the truth,

But when agony faces us, where is the man they write about?

And my mind tells me we're going down, without hope of a saviour.

My wise tells me we're going down, without hope.

I'm not one to block belifs,

But can you tell me that you can see redemption for this life?

There's no messianic form watching,

Only a wise mind telling us we're going down, without hope.

I remeber shaking the hands of faith,

I be not a child, and the comfort I felt at that point has gone.

I be not a seed, but a flower with a wise mind.

If there is a man up there.

I'm mistaken. I'm mistaken. I'm mistaken.

If you want s to beleve;

Where's the evidence? Show evidence.

Convince us, so that your evidence shall not be burnt.

And my mind tells me we're going down, without hope of a saviour.

My wise tells me we're going down, without hope.

I'm not one to block belifs,

But can you tell me that you can see redemption for this life?

There's no messianic form watching,

Only a wise mind telling us we're going down, without hope.

I remeber shaking the hands of faith,

I be not a child, and the comfort I felt at that point has gone.

I be not a seed, but a flower with a wise mind.

If there is a man up there.

I'm mistaken. I'm mistaken. I'm mistaken.

I'm not a preacher, a prophet, but a soul.

I'm not a pretender, a fake, but a soul.

But how can you leave us, no hope at all?


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