The heaven sent Saints

Oh a saint he was, dancing on our souls, his vocals vividly staining on our hearts,

From your hair, to your sideburns, the image of you remains pure and clear.

Melting on us like wax, we grew on to you like mushrooms,

Your talents like melodies played to a beat non- stop,

I find your loss more a physical mental change,

 That west may not get a break but pain is what made us rake,

Raking up a generation of mess, confusion and stress,

Cause if we told our story, west would be known as the best,

Having been told that we’re blessed, but of how we’ve grown to be strong,

Through these hurricanes of wrong, we tend to stumble,

Holding on to our struggle, we hang on,

But I long for the day of peace and serenity, for we will not be moved,

God says “Trust in me, and I’ll guide you”

For us to lose sight, we lose our piece of mind, drifting and clouded,

Emotions will come and pain can last, but like a scraped knee, we will heal,

For a time like this, we must love, care, and cherish one another,

Because today is the greatest present that’s not promise tomorrow,

Where my trust is without boarders, I’ll walk upon the waters, wherever god will take me,

The lost found, chained to our hearts, and inspired in our future, forever in crested in our hearts,