Who is the man that I’m sitting here writing about late at night with poetic lyrics? the man who is standing all by himself and the man with the quiet spirit? The man that I see who is passing by me leaves a question mark on my face, because he really does have me curious, keeping my thoughts in a secret place. He will never know that I am watching, and he will never know what I can see, he will never know what I am hoping, because it just may not ever be. Though my mind may be constantly roaming, like the waves that are in the sea, he might not be the man that’s for me, but a withered and a fruitless tree. How could I know what would ever happen? Or what a person in this life will face? but for now I rather choose to better myself, and keep my thoughts in a secret place.


If you only could’ve spoken in your final hour before the lights had begin to grow dim, and if you only could’ve told me what the feeling was like, when you had traveled to the spiritual realm. Where are you dwelling, are you feeling alone, or are you bowing at the Master’s feet? are you singing with the angels with a harp in your hand or are you resting in eternal peace? Show me where you are and just lead the way to where your body has been properly laid, because I want to know if everything is well with you, or are you begging to come out of your grave? If only you could see me and just pick up the phone because your spirit has not fallen asleep; if only heaven could be opened in the visions of night to make a way for us that you can be reached.