I weave words with nouns and verbs like the prophet who heard God first but instead of peace my mind is adverse living the soldiers curse to market my life.....
I am an indentured servant, feeling fervent, knowing I need to let the fear vent, wondering if I am heaven or hell sent, but soldiering pays the rent and I don't know if I keep it going.....
I never know if I will live to see tomorrow God may not give me more time to barrow but I cant let it get me feeling sorrow, just keep moving on......
