Free will can be God’s will
But Lucy in his craft has created customs and traditions that keep you caged
Maya knows why the caged bird sings
It sings of freedom that comes alive only in dreams
It sings of power and triumph over wickedness
Wickedness dressed in fear’s fashion label
The sophisticated fear of being seen or known
The color blocking fear for tomorrow
The conventional fear of being unagreeable
Or just the casual fear of leaving your comfort zone
If only the caged bird could stop romanticising her cage long enough to pick the lock
Nobody wants to hear the shrill tune of deep, sorrowful lyrics
Action speaks louder than songs
It will fall before it learns how to fly again
The free fall is an exercise of its free will because it knows God’s will
And even if it falls to the ground, the few seconds of living is better than an eternity of letting life pass by.
Live!
Nothing will happen
The worst that could happen is death
And to die is gain
ChyD
© 2026
Tag: Happen
Gods’ Of Match
We are a mix for many lands,
We are marching for very far;
In hearts, lips and hands
Our words are weapons of war
The light we walk in shines
Like sun, moon, and star.
Storm cannot shake nor stain
In forms that we are dreams retain;
The strength that makes us whole,
Is alive in us, our words fill every hole
Because the fire that moves is sovereign in our soul.
We are they that have to cope
With time till time retire;
Even though not are desire
For to us to live is Christ
And to die is gain.
We live in the world but heaven
We feed on tears and fire;
By inks, we give back our sheer desire.
We are gods of the match in this march
Generals of the church
This month no souls ever preyed upon
Our inks shall wander cold.
Davidgospel
© 2020
A No Man
A no man,
Found in imperfection,
Of a world full of pressures
Weighing side by side;
By beliefs, he’s tied,
And No!, he wouldn’t fly.
A no man,
came sitting at the tip,
Watching his legs get licked
By the foamy sea’s tongue,
Taking what nature gives;
Trying to see the world from new eyes.
A no man,
Lived and worked and bred in the richness of lack;
Caged in own mind,
Where dogs lick his wounds that life’s caused on him;
And No!, his end wouldn’t start now.
Times always happens,
When it does- standstill,
Believe in the maker of times,
Don’t go crying, don’t go pity-partying!
It’s really a no man’s business
TM Sungs
© 2020
