Madness is a subtle art. When crafted it brings great amusement
Madness is an imaginary friend, hidden when life quickens
Now things begin to settle. I find It waiting there beside me.
Spinning circles. Not even sure if I’m making sense anymore.
Talents degrade to cyclic musings, wandering off to and fro.
I want to be what I am not, and there is not to change me so
I drift about the between the lines of living and just remaining
It’s rarely me: you speak to, talk to. Often it’s my lovelily pet:
It smiles and does Its tricks for you, I writhe behind It in regret.
But life’s not so bleak. For while my pet, entertains the watching world:
I labor on secretly for the cure, that ancient remedy!
Maybe he’ll find me before too long. Maybe he’ll come after me.
There’s a mystery seldom seen… Its stride is soft like children’s feet
It dances across the flowers, it gentles through the laughing winds.
Before I am aware, it falls so heavily upon my heart
Awakening what was in slumber, stirring all that settled down.
I’m reminded of your merits, no longer burdened by my faults
Reminded of your favor, I see more clearly through the darkness
You’ve brought me up through mist and mire, until the peak is reached at last!
And from this lofty spire, to see brief portions of your perspective.
Sin is great, your grace is greater. When I fall, it is your pleasure
To gather up my shattered spirit, from the corners of the Earth.
You mend my soul and crush my pride. You heal my heart and train my eyes!
You build me in the truth of grace, and break my persistent folly.
You are faithful not to visit your great vengeance down upon me
For I am small and without help, pardon all your hand provides me
A glance from you – without this grace – would tear the tendons of my soul!
And so I step with chilling dread, and so I tremble trusting you.
A fleeting feint of triumph, is all I can boast of my facade,
For soon after false victory, I’m falling, stumbling where I trod.
Whether to stumble on the stone, that’s set to bind me from my pride
Or to stumble on the sin I chose, seducing me with its lies.
And yet… there remains that rooted grace, firmly as an ancient tree
It’s beautifully strong and yet, profoundly free within the breeze
So Time and Weather come what may! You cast me down? I shall not stay!
The Lord Most High has given grace! I shall rise, and keep on dancing