Prophets do cry too:
By Dr. Shalomim Y. HaLahawi MD(AM), PsyD, MD.P, DPHC Copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved
Who is that man or woman, that I see afar soo hurt
Whose stumbled in the daylight and waddle in their own lack of worth
Who sits on the stone and glare at the Sun
But only feel the blindness of the souls they haven’t won?
Who longs for a day of balance and the night our spirits to keep
But toss and turns in the midnight, because their spirit lets them not sleep
Who speaks with a passion, a fire so burning bright
But within their own frustrations, they shone a dimming light
Who trembles at the command that the Divine forces to give
Knowing the words these speak, may rob them of the chance to live
Who stands before the courts where people abuse their names
Who are threatened, ridiculed and beaten, and brought to a prophetic shame
Who gives their life of dedication to warn before the storm
But are hated by the victims who listen to nothing we Warn
Who is enlightened immediately with instant divine Knowledge
But before we can open our mouths to share it, we are all called false prophets
Who are these men and women, whose lives are not their own
Who live a life of resentment, because they're the first to know whats going on
Who can see a bus a coming, and the blind walking the streets
Who yells and screams “get out of the WAY”, but the person never takes heed
And should the prophet intervene and pushes him away from death
The results can be disastrous from the un-appreciation for his help…
Who is that man or woman, that people never believe
Until he’s dead and gone, then everyone suddenly needs
Whose mouth is like fire, and words are like a Sword
But never get taken seriously that they are speaking the Word of the LORD
Who if only the people would've listened and understood so they’d be saved
Would not end up in post judgement, where they are murdered, exploited or enslaved
Who is that man I see, whose sad and lonely too
Who speaks with regret and made to feel a fool?
I looked at him closely, and tears were in his eyes
He tried soo hard to hold it in, but he couldn’t stop from Crying
His heart was soo broken, he prayed the Lord his Death
For after he was given the command, he spoke, he had nothing left
And then he said his name, my gosh it sounded like me
I was looking at myself, so heart broken unrelieved
I let the world discourage my heart to the point I almost no longer believed
Like Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ya’akob and Yeshua, who asked to be reassigned
I too asked Yahwah, if it was possible to leave my calling behind
But not our will oh Elah, its Yahwahs will we strove to do
And yet we are hated, abused and degraded, all because no one wants the truth
But we are those men and women, who despite the suicide missions
Give our lives to Yahwah and are dedicated to communicate his vision
And though we may appear divine, we are no different than any of you
We only wish that people would understand, THAT PROPHETS DO CRY TOO…
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