Desire to wring every




of the tortured soul-

(without the torture, of course.)

God’s gifts

best broken and poured out

from a life of troubles.

Suffering Servant

From joyous place

of decrees and diadems,

worship, sovereignty,

limitless authority

stripped down to peasant garb

cloaked in voluntary loss

crowned with suffering.

Starry Night

Cry out for seeing eyes

past the night skies;

stars consistent rotation

the moon’s blazing beauty, brazen.

Run toward dawn in darkness felt,

A rising light, truth as your belt.

Romantic Songs

You say I have romantic songs, lost to time;

I’m bestowed a crown, which I can’t seem to find.

The depth you say you see

is static veneer that keeps me from free.