Drop Your Head

Drop Your Head

By: The Red Cat Jazz of Love

Walk,

With me.

And drop your head

feel my spirit,

hear my sound.

I have a voice that open up

the waves of thoughts and he hears

my congested ink but it makes him

say daughter of mine speak and with tender

joy I want to hear you.

Father,

Are you here ?

If so,

When you come, the darkness it flees

and the leaves that brew a few of my

evil past deeds they go away and everything

be erased. And to the wicked once so beautiful

Angel he no longer can read my zone.

Because I am listed to him and his

Plan to ambush your world Unknown.

Father,

pace walk with me my real soul.

My tears pour down gallons and gallons

of what you endured for me to even write smile

to the syllables and all anyone of your lost

children have to do is give you

Jehovah God a inch and you’ll

promise to give the rest of the extra miles.

I am,

sweating Father in your holy spirit but

its joy to me daddy and if its your way

of bathing me then by all means make it

my newly routine as a willing habit.

Hush,

evil sound please respect my conversation

with my father Jehovah who provides me

with the trial to endure this struggle with

your world, with your people, who cherish it

because I tell you I don’t!

I don’t take pleasure in how you

dear Satan send the world to go hungry,

Are your unleashed demons to rape,

to kill, to re live the hideous of most

 Sod’om Gomorrah,

So please.....

 I need his faith to endure this to the end

so just hush up!

I speak,

through your most highly respected mediator

and that is your son Jesus Christ the richest

of purity that I will follow to the end of time because

He knows the direction of the walking trial but to live

the life we where suppose to live anyway before momma

of beginning made it all wrong.

Father I,

 love you so much I don’t want to even up lift my head

I am getting feed a course of spiritual love food that

traffic my eyes with tears I am here just give me

the direction I come closer, with truth and

to whom ever I am weird to it doesn’t matter

to me.

 You see because its you who cook my meals

of grace and give my steps the pep that sweeps

 me off my feet. I am leaving folded up

 notes trail of my journey the time of my

 prayer I dropped my head before

you known Jehovah but to the

 ones with veils I will

always be a weird scripture unknown.

Because you dance to his horror of

lies and not the truth of my Father. So.... 

October 2^nd 2009 I spoke

of the joy of the future kingdom

Of my home. So by the time the

lost come along I already be singing

a beautiful song all on my own

I' am The Truth

© Julia L. Clark Registration Number TXu-331-190, All rights reserved