1.
Its not the Army of great Power, the nation of Prowess;
not the Warlock Ultimate, who casts spells through the night.
It is a Woman, who wants to tame your More to less;:
to either or your big score, then you create a new chess.
When all hath been created, she will become your bride;
to give you peace, then you long for the last stand and rite.
Behold, soldier you are called for betters than duress!
2.
Its not the treason, what rends flesh, nor the poison of the quilt;
its the friends, who understand, but want to hold on to the kiln!
For what hath God to do Belial's or divine with mundane bills;
venture on your thorny spires, and don't care when spit is willed!
For those who cast stones, hold onto altars horns, who praise chill,
change their mind like Wind. Just as forsaken Jesus at Golgatha hill –
don't relent on yours Gethsemane just to win a Pilates hilt...
3.
Its not the weakness of the flesh, nor the meekness of the soul;
its your own family, you need to leave and let them go!
For just as in marriage does, the Man forsakes his own as foul;
to seek what He was destined to, for Love eternal he but could!
May the Lion roar at markets, or the Bear your ways turn: Lo' –
stand your ground, for All-Mighty with you, He'll make through
them like a torrent of Hail-fire, cast you from His Right hand mould!!
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