In This Tin Cup

Job's Plead to God, part one

 

In this tin cup...

 

Oh how the world is lost

in an illusion of stupidity

that words are shades

of black and white

the middle holds

the truth of only who’s right

 

rivers of people, lost

the greed is flaunted and scorned

blamed on the weak

and those possessing, even the unborn

 

we are punished for things that we do

but what we do tends to

dictate what one can do and can’t,

a soup of someone else’s dirt

for our traditions horrid on others

who you can love echoes in a chant

a true measure for our sisters and brothers

 

you told me that I’m here to save

so I abandon my life

 for those you said gave

I now must endure and suffer

more and more each day

until the angels come to absorb and buffer

to take me away

 

Each step I climb brings me closer

to understand those around me

but the path is always narrow and confusing

do I bury my head so no one can see?

 

 

Job’s last whisper…

 

I didn’t abandon them

I reached out and gave them my hand

they pulled me down, into their world of pain

they try to control their world with illusions

none of this was here before, why do we need their fame

I ask you to look upon my tin cup…

 

I cried for days and thought about the children

those that lost their life to parental claims

innocence is the virtual you told me

snuffed by those that ripped the fabrics of shame

 

I never question you, nor did I complain

I watched the wars capture and rip hearts,

I constantly exclaimed, the blood spilled and spoils the land

watched your land, decay and rot

 

The people driven to a level of insane

with such death, nothing grows

 even if nurtured by the levels of rain

plant all they want, but nothing to sow

 

 

Yes, I see the sun, in the fires of the morning

and the moon in crest of the night

and the rise of love in your word

but not a soul will be saved

 

They don’t see you, they only see what they believe

I know you because I accepted the pain

so the clouds can roll over the moon

and deliver the pouring rain

 

they whimper about the happenings

crying seems to be the only measurement

so I’m here to give you my cup made of tin

with the love I filled within

my tears are captured and laced

with our foolish beloved sins.

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Wow this is really intense and interesting... so many levels and lessons within this write.

This is a rather different picture, and your talent really does spread across very well.

Your signature still permeates in all your pieces, and it evolves over time.

An excellent piece with great fundamentals.

[just is]

This is very interesting! i like this

[Jessica Fox]

very in depth write here ralphy good job

[Wildfleour]

A very complex and interesting write. The story of Job points to man always questioning, but dig one level deeper and one begins to understand the necessity of questioning. Blind faith is exactly that - blind.