What it takes

Whatever did you see in her,
This vixen of chameleon eyes?
One second she's sure, and true,
The next she will your heart despise.
But of yourself, what do you possess?
Are you your friends possession?
Or can you not humbly confess,
By means of a candid confession
That you are in fact your own,
And are warring with yourself;
Discomfort with friends has shown
The value man holds for temporal wealth.
For we cannot posses our friends,
Cannot make them as we are,
Cannot know what he or she intends,
And yet we still believe it to be bizarre
That we struggle under the weight of expectation,
And even offer bitter refutation
And blames of condemnation
While we express our own consternation,
All from the false belief that we are not ourselves
Unless some other within our heart delves.
But fate and fortune are but one thing,
A ring of changes while our eyes do see
A blessed light, our ears do so ring
With the sound of the eternal sea;
So soft and soothing can God be.
And when he is allowed into our hearts,
We posses ourselves through him,
All disparity from us departs,
And all our friends seem in us to brim
With the light of God diminished
By their burdensome sins, for which he bled.
Can this vixen offer to us stability
For which we seek in others, can it free
Us from what's hampering our sight?
No, only by God, by his power and his might
Can we become what we are meant to be.
Loving, kind, obedient, and truly free.

                    What it takes, (c) Luke Bennette