Around I travel in circles, how many times?
My enemy observing, plotting,
Laughing, pointing, and mocking,
Anger and hate, so strong in it's eyes.
The Path, you grow weak,
If you move too fast for too long...
A promised future ahead of me,
My mighty past gives chase,
The wilderness can be so deadly,
Do not stop in such a hopeless place.
The Path chosen,
At time can seem to be way to long...
Waters of trial, promising death,
Full of blackness and blinding sorrows,
A path is made, guiding my steps,
The path is a glimpse of every tomorrow,
Fear is there to makes one weak,
Fear not fear, I must be strong, be strong...
My past, my guilt, still it pursues,
In a flash, my enemy is gone,
Engulfed in darkness, where it belongs,
My promise, my future, it must be truth.
Even though you feel weak,
God's Path is to make you strong, be strong.
© Copyright 2016 Tyrone Slade. All rights reserved.