The dabbling of my soul pulls the pole of life to a wavering front,to the left we see peace,but what it is really is a broken turned over cross,above is the fire that burns from within,to seek out Gods love,waiting for new life to begin, it is the mask that we wear that colors this black,if we seek the face of love he will never turn his back,we are but children playing softly among the thorns and roses,my Lord,my God,thank you for your promises