(Word that is to be spoken, not read silently)

Release me, Giver, to find the paths of least resistance

The ones that lead to mostly innocence and confidence

It’s no coincidence. It’s common sense.

That you would be magnificent, leading me to tear down the fence,

That squishes out my fiery incense.

Burning within, a flame begins

To grow and wince in pain. It’s been restrained.

My neck is craned - to see the light off in the distance,

beyond the plains of life’s permanence.

The concrete wall of death and shame remains the same until we name the game of sane.

Sanity escapes to find the key to unlock the door to mystery,

tear down the wall of bigotry -

on bended knee I flee to thee

and kiss the face of love’s purity.