Brazen sin against flesh,
Tearing and ripping away,
Scurrying to every orifice,
Clogging that divine vein.
Vain searching of the holy,
Corrupting mundane flesh,
Fallen purity of non-innocent,
searched helping hands,
Finding nothing.

Unless you’re found,
Who can instruct,
God’s nebulous will,
How brazen sin,
Doesn’t tear or rip,
Just coats your arms,
dutiful work.
Wise words,
twist the eyes,
sinful dust?
Nay, tis this,
God’s mercy.
Coating over all,
Sin is the base,
Your words,
wise words,
humble words,
Loaning, no,
Gifting, yes,
this hope.

Hunter Fraley,
Thank you,
not from me,
but from us all,
Thank you.