Lost Art
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Lost Art Lyrics
"the whole world His canvas and yet my brush inactive"
I
an abandoned skyline waits
shades and hues of layered gray
a few spots of heaven blink in and out of existence
II
it is my world before me-
haze showers the path
revoking my upper hand.
The accuser slips in an unknown door,
his fiercest blade temptation.
each day I bow to the menacing knife,
dripping a blasphemous red,
he severs my sight
and sows shut eternity-
the needle's eye impenetrable...
III
life begins the day old-
new birth a vague notion,
but a darkened rut my abode:
I
an abandoned skyline waits
shades and hues of layered gray
a few spots of heaven blink in and out of existence
II
it is my world before me-
haze showers the path
revoking my upper hand.
The accuser slips in an unknown door,
his fiercest blade temptation.
each day I bow to the menacing knife,
dripping a blasphemous red,
he severs my sight
and sows shut eternity-
the needle's eye impenetrable...
III
life begins the day old-
new birth a vague notion,
but a darkened rut my abode:
the scenery of God envelops me
Will I ?
a pauper places in two pennies
a sister takes time to apologize
a lyric strikes chords of beauty
a servant gives though unnoticed
a splendor rises from shorn grasses
a woman quenches thirst at the well
a smile explodes a girl's sickly face
a boy gaunt partakes in bread
a gospel forges into unknown lands
a thief inherits saving grace
will the scenery of God develop me ?
I cannot see it
life tramples the day under-
still-birth a safe comfort,
but its deadly sleep my bed.
IV
the past I whip to a fruitless end,
feeding a parasitic guilt;
he swallows my heart
and seeds in timidity-
sky of limitation eternally falling.
Will I ?
a pauper places in two pennies
a sister takes time to apologize
a lyric strikes chords of beauty
a servant gives though unnoticed
a splendor rises from shorn grasses
a woman quenches thirst at the well
a smile explodes a girl's sickly face
a boy gaunt partakes in bread
a gospel forges into unknown lands
a thief inherits saving grace
will the scenery of God develop me ?
I cannot see it
life tramples the day under-
still-birth a safe comfort,
but its deadly sleep my bed.
IV
the past I whip to a fruitless end,
feeding a parasitic guilt;
he swallows my heart
and seeds in timidity-
sky of limitation eternally falling.
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