They say God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.
So what about death?
How do I prevent my last breath?
Life isn’t something I want to take for a gamble.
But I still take my next step
Without knowing what comes next, or what is left.
Have you ever felt an emotion evoked from the way your life might compel
A situation that demands you to scorn the heavens with a sharp gaze of rebel?
Or speak up with the voice of a rebel, in the same manner of the devil
With a similar interest of an arsonist, a prerogative of a fire starter
Alongside the lament of a martyr?
You want to believe, but you can’t convince your heart or
Lift your hopes up or even look back up.
“He” hides behind the sky; A veil of blue with specks of white
That prompts us to worship with what we feel is our minds eye.
Why am I so afraid to lie? And why do I pray for the day that I die?
I can’t fathom a distance that high;
A place where which he dwells, the “Most High”
The one where my questions go to for replies
I guess this questioning is what they call a sin
Because apparently against him, I can never win
Even if my faith is what makes him great
In the end I’m just one man, riding the span of my life until the end of my plan.
So until that day arrives, I’ll just do what I can…
I just pray for another day, but no matter our origin you can’t deny that life is great.
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