What Is Man?

I am not unlike the words of a spoken-word artiste;
I am a work of art, and not a simple one at that…
But what I truly am, I cannot confidently guess.

I am what I cannot completely define;
The product of a Master beyond constraints;
A thought from a creative Mind without confines
And birthed in Love from Hands perfect for every work.

I am His breath trapped in a mould;
A divine spark merged with an earthen work of art
In a mystery beyond unravelling though born in Light.

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Truth be Told

Truth be told, I’m cold;
But it’s not really me, it’s my heart that’s cold;
There was a time when my heart felt like molten gold,
Impassioned with zeal and love for the Lord;
Now, here’s an empty cold vessel made of gold;
It’s laden with dust and hidden out of sight;
But out of sight, is a dangerous place to be.
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