Wednesday, May 30, 2012

If your Brave

Strange enough I find my way,
I walk the path, and I'm here to stay,
Strange enough I can't see,
But that doesn't mean I'm not who I want to be.

Make a stand, if you're brave,
Don't be an arrant knave!
Take spades, raise the fortress high!
Employ the clubs until you die.
Make a stand if your brave,
Give into your hearts, cause he forgave, you.

I Play my hand with ease and grace,
I know I'm here, my rightful place.
But walking home I am all flush
And can't keep a strait hand;
To see them their makes me all hush,
It's something I can't, I won't bear,
To see them all in such a rush!

Make a stand if you're brave,
Don't be an arrant knave,
Take spades and raise the fortress high!
Employ the clubs until you die
Just make a stand, remain true,
He died for us, he forgave you.

Take spades and dig a whole,
Create for yourself a greater soul;
Employ those clubs you saw last night
Keep them out of a fight,
Make them strong, right a wrong,
Fight the fight and make it through,
The light at the end shines in you!

The enemy will fight you still,
Until he's had of you his fill;
He'll strike you blind, and take your hand,
He'll lead you away from your home, your land.

Make a stand if you're brave,
Don't give up like the knave,
Build the fortress high enough
To overcome the spite and guff.

You play your diamonds to beat his pair
Of spades, but you were unaware;
Overcome by your fear of clubs
You ran right past those sweet cherubs,
You left them in the dust,
And while you fought the fear inside
Your car turned into rust;
You're home devoured your very soul,
But heh! You still have control!

Be brave!
Keep strong,
Fight the knave!
Sing along,
The song of angels weeps for you,
They pray and hope you will be true!
Walk back the way you came,
Cherub clubs cry out your name,
Beg you with their poor refrain,
Don't hold yourself back,
Release the cane!

Make a stand! Please be brave!
Cry out, they'll help, you fight the knave!
Raise the fortress high,
Don't keep walking,
Don't walk on by!

We all want a royal flush,
But strange enough,
It's not the flush that's royal,
But men of every race that work and toil.

I make a stand,
I play my hand,
I bravely walk without my fear,
And hold all close, I hold all dear.

Strange enough I walk my way,
I find the path, and I'll never stray.
And since I've found my sight again,
I'll never doubt again, amen. 

             If your Brave...(c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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