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she is your shepherd

by lenshound

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about

A poem from a long time ago rehearsed once more and set to mid-beat tracks.

lyrics

Why do you love her?
Do her hands form praires your eyes could never say?
As her lips curve and her feet tap
You sing her anthem from mountain peak lungs
How can you live like that?
Constantly changing hymns unseen
Always seeking her out when doors are closed
Always beating the Bush to be with her
I'm sorry if I messed you up
I messed up, I messed up
Feet catching chipped wood on the last pew to the altar
I thought you were a holy ghost
Haunting my memories I love the most
So I ran
And ran and ran
To a lost boy in the woods that I pointed in the wrong direction
I am a broken compass, a last minute gift
That collects dust on the bedside table
I am worn and sad and tried too hard finding answers to questions that were already proven
I never told her like you said
That would be a sin
Your eyes a finger on standby to a trigger of a gun
Voiding my truths and fears
I will not tell her
How you prayed lies into my palms
And under minded my apathetic ways to escort yourself to false beliefs
I'm sorry I couldn't take control
But where there is sheep there is a Shepherd
And where there is her
There is you
And
Where ever you both are
There is a God because I see it now.
The future
And her hands
And the collective silence as she waits for the church to empty completely for you.
The sinful bliss of her long years of waiting
Knowing she'd come back to the house of God and find you waiting too
Her feet fleeing the past running down the aisle to meet you
Surrounded by stained glass ghosts and the burning colors echoing off of wooden beams above
As she sees the universe in your eyes
And that is religion
As you meet, finally
Doors ajar and
Her fingertips mirror your own
A holy momentum, finally together
And I will shatter
Desperately trying to gather my memories of how spiritual I felt
Clawing your face from the inside of my eyelids
Burning every verse from every page read
Praying to God that you'd come back for me
Instead of her

credits

released January 20, 2017

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lenshound New Brunswick

a dumb 19 year old that writes poetry at ungodly hours.

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