Awake at night, thoughts take flight.
Even a blind dream somehow finds sight. The words I write on paper to my voice is like reincarnation.
From God within me draws inspiration. Though temptation surrounds me, deep in thoughts that drown me,
Though I was lost, somehow God found me.
Trying to stay afloat, my faith is a seed of hope.
Good and evil play tug of war as if my flesh were the rope.
Somehow there’s a balance, even through this challenge.
Noise fills the air around me, yet somehow I remain in silence.
It’s like music to my ears, no doubts or fears.
As my face was the canvas painted with tears.
Years have gone by, now older as time flies, becoming wise.
Though it’s no surprise you can still see the dried up tears that fell from my eyes.
Still I’m alive, somehow through God’s purpose.
He sustained me for his will, for his grace is perfect.
I refuse to feel worthless, all the struggles I’ve faced, I deserved it.
My mind is pregnant with ideas, from my mind to reality, God birthed it.
No childlike thoughts, through a vivid imagination.
My thoughts you cannot see, like the words I speak, yet somehow you see the relation.
This who I am, what God created me to be. This who I am, who God created you to see.
A man who’s daydream is written at night. Sleepwalking during the day, walking by faith, not by sight.
© Isaiah Daniel McCowan