Regarding the wanderers
In this caravan of escapees
They all had different demons
That drove them into that mess
The wrath of the fellow man
The greed for a jackpot
The lust for one more bottle
A ragtag bunch
If there ever was one
Wandering in the desert
The lashings hadn't been good for the body
The screaming not good for the mind
The bondage not good for the soul
Roll all that up with dehydration
And suddenly the motley crew
Is watching the dunes dance
Nostalgia lays on the tint
Even in the best of conditions
And here it blotted even the sun
Flooding the mind
Burying the memories
Leaving only dove perches
The blood and sweat and tears
Wash away, give way
To an exhibition
Showcasing the works of the hands
The soothing presences
The thrill of the heart
But would any of it be possible
Without the skeletons in the closet
Without the bones underfoot
Do you lust so greatly
For bygone delusions
That peace is bitter in your mouth?
Oh wayward soul
Pity on you
For you belonged to pacts of brokenness
And the foundation never held
And rooting through the rubble
Is too much for you to bear
And so the truth is ever beyond your grasp
Empty yourself and fall on the Rock
O you wayward soul
And hear Him whispering as He did on Horeb