by Mark Napier
Don't want to walk upon the water
Don't want to calm the storm
And all this talk about my father
And the way that I was born
Does nothing to help me now
As I hang upon the cross
I lost control of this how?
To explain I am at a loss
But that matters very little
for soon it will all be done
a shout mixed with blood and spittle
the father has forsaken his son
I let this game go unfettered
Getting out of hand
A learned man in the letters
Gods son, the son of man
No.. don't want to walk upon the water,
Don't want to calm the storm
No wish to heal the masses
Lost sheep destitute and scorned
Son of man, one with the father
A dream and nothing more
A loss for all that matters
A lost ship, searching for the shore
© 2002 Mark A. Napier
