Days past, around the time of yore,

My soul was heir to holy war

With the thwart of a silent conversation,

And the lack of discrimination

Behold, I truly unseal the veracity,

Among those whose minds have the capacity

The capacity in which their hearts are not slave

To secular riches which leads to their grave

The soothsayer of long before

Had prophesied a time of suffering no more

In hopes your mind does not bight

Now I pray for it to open and see the godly light.