January  2017 - whole nine
They will mount up with wings as eagles
but I've seen greater birds
mounted on walls of their enemies.
Don't give me wings without telling me
where my refuge lies.
They will run and not grow weary
but I'm tired
and the fire in my eyes
doesn't desire to be doused
by the tears they inspire.
They will walk and not faint
but my knees have been
growing weaker by the
weeks. My strength peaked
a few hundred deaths ago.
but even without rest I've
I wait on the Lord and
my strength survived, so
I'll be gunning for the whole ride
I'll be coming for the whole nine
everything my blackness is denied
until I'm reunited with the skies.