I’ve said good bye to too many friends and family in the recent years…, and today i just realized I’m….

STILL IN MOURNING

LIMITLESS

Heart heavy as memories tell me of stories written a time ago when life was a lil slow and

we didn’t carry the World in tow oh how I remember the smiles and laughter then comes

the morning after a blissful Dream scenes flipping like pages seen in books housing

pictures of moments captured…

Moments, God only knows, how I want them back….

listening to Great Big Worlds ‘Say Something’ resting in the sanctuary of quite thought; This is…

WHEN I’M GONE

LIMITLESS

Feeling the day’s dwindle hearing the closing of the doors of my past….

At last the Gates await the return of the lost-

Paid the cost of admission hoping to get a passing grade on My mission

Completed-

Seeded the ground of purpose with the off spring of Hope gained through courage

Reaching to stay

Encouraged

Buried under the surface of the ash’s that shaped this flame…

FINALLY

I’m released from this,

Now distant,

pain….

I’ve been doing a lot of this lately……

SELF SEARCHING

LIMITLESS


I take off into a night vision

scenes which seem to play on repeat to an up tempo beat

it’s neat to seek the Self in the distance

until

the image persist to present who you are

then you realize how far……

it seems to be

BUT

You repeatedly seek the Self in mind to the point of insanity

seeking for the break of day as Self lays-

Captured-

in the arms of Twilight…..

SILENT SCREAMS WRITTEN UPON INK SOILED PAPER, THIS IS…

SILENT SCREAM

by LIMITLESS

Look at me!

don’t just see words on a page

these aren’t just letters that run swift

they’re a brief scope inside of a heart that sits

at times

troubled to be

too see, the reason it beats

soul rides to see if heart will peak or be overrun pulsing with a steady hum

won many battles, however, still engaged in some

needing, hoping,

speaking written heart-beats pouring soul liquid spilling abstract as you look to see hearing

Me

feeling every emotion these letters soak in

WHY CAN’T I SAY WHAT NEEDS TO BE SAID

holding all this in feeling broken and dead

my only release is through a pen, key-pad, or pencil

realizing at the end

this battle is all mental–

can you read me now?….

Out of the depths of sorrow & despair comes the fury of an overcomer, this is….

De Profundis
By LIMITLESS

Eyes open to the awareness of what thought brought to me,

“Dim sunlight….”

So I fight to gain strength in this atmosphere fear is no-longer an option if the enemy advances my shield of faith will halt them;

Wash’n off this residue,

confusion,

moving towards my righteous station I’m driven to pursue what’s in me; reaching through the pool of sorrow, muddy hands reaching for the light of tomorrow, the time I’m on is borrowed so I must leave these weights behind no more space for despair on my mind.

A voice woven upon the wind speaks a command too end,

COME OUT OF THE MOTHER OF HARLOTRY & ABOMINATIONS;”

“I’VE SENT YOU TO THE NATIONS DELIVERING THESE WORDS THAT WILL SAVE THEM;

YOU, MY CHAMPION, ARE HEAVEN SENT TO AID THEM.

“NOW…,”

“COME OUT OF HER DESPAIR!”

I come out more aware of my selection for perfection by Thee Authority. I must realize there’s more too who I AM to be;

Sorrows’ Atrophy isn’t Me!

Time to be about the business of My Father demonstrating the reality of His Kingdom upon Earths alters pushing through, leaping over obstacles, the definition of ” Quitting Ins’t Possible

Q-I-P

Attitude on display coming out of depression striding with power footsteps making historic impressions.

My Father shows me that I gain strength through transition breaking out of drudgery into my mission with one decision,

“‘I’M LEAVING YOU–

DE PROFUNDIS,”

reaching out of her darkness towards the light,

breathing–

“I AM LIVING…,”

“NEVER CONCEDING….”

Once we where in the bonds of a guilty conscience, once our past sin’s choked any hope of freedom: But now our way of escape has come; (Rom 8:1) There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

Prison of Vanity

by Edward Taylor III

I had a dream I was crashing into moments, blinded by the glare of memories;

Misdirected missteps led me to a void of emptiness,

In this, existed dreams which became toys of affectionate wishes.

Here – vision groaned for an exorcism out of vanities prison, with bloody finger nails creativity clawed at the wall of deceptive reality,

Painful memories & fearful moments bind the mind leaving it blind, Subdued by consistent doses of disappointment,

Until original purpose & intent became merely faint voices in the distant wind;

Here dominant are the figments of the imagination, which offer fragments of dis-eases…

A sudden shout grips my ear,

“WAKE-UP!”

“Grab my hand & I’ll lead you out!”

Grace grips my hand resurrecting hope, faith opens the prison gates, my footsteps pound the past I swiftly forsake,

As I exit through the gates of condemnation the mark of bondage is suddenly erased by one word forgiven…

I had a dream I was living in purpose, a King drinking from the fountain of life, having escaped the corruption of memory, free from the bondage of who I used to be…

The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (PS 121: 5-8) Even in the worst of times God is always there to pick you back up and continue you on your road to greatness.

A Sorrowful Dance

By Edward Taylor III

A Sorrowful dance in the wind, performed by an excluded soul lost in sin, tears fall as pirouette’s call to the lost soul,

hopelessness twirls with blind perception, darkness calls with a malicious obsession.

Broken inside, strength subsides, to a sorrowful dance in the wind.

“Where is the comfort, the loving embrace, who will wipe these tears from my face?”

Under the stars you can see the dancer scarred:

Leaping to grasp the joy seemingly so far out of reach, distant as the mocking moon, silent & sweet,

Who is this that dances with sorrow in the wind?

The motions of this dancers’ gloom ignite the fierceness of question: “Where is my hope, where is my solace, where…

WHERE?”

The ground is struck, pounded by clinched fists,

“NO MORE!”

Is the cry as the dancer sits, drenched in sweat & self-regret: with eyes to the sky & arms raised the dancer is lifted up by the wind to dance once again,

Then a whisper is heard in the night sky:

“Hold on my dancer your salvation draws nigh”…