To Conceive A Plan by Hemina
You ask me these questions
I've asked myself for years
After all this to find
This saviour of mine a peer
Down dangled cord of feather
As the bellows of Jacob sung
Bidded, I climb each tattered rung
Is this home?
Is this heaven's gift to man?
Make me a child, rid me a father
Rid me a man!
To emerge from this flesh, to be born
To violate law – to be unplanned
Why me?
Fresh faced, bright eyed; a believer
A follower of yours beaten to the ground
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