I turn away a stage no more
Set up high on a pedestal
To say my peace, naught to be lore,
Observed a point, incredible.
If this naught be my righteous day
I feel my eyes will not suffice,
But close my heart its stead, say nay,
Kept open to needed advice.
I claim no virtue 'tis of mines,
For I, a mind, made full of sorts,
So worthy be the choice defines,
This day mines will then set the course.
It is but a crawl through mired mud,
Slime of crimes my outer being
The innards smell a stench of crud,
My essence hid but seen fleeing.
I will not heed to ill advice,
To consort with those troubled minds,
This naught be a good day of choice,
To listen to a host of whines.
If I could change but one small thing,
It is my mindset one accord,
I wait what righteous day will bring,
Find you a servant of the Lord.