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Through His Eyes
The brazen prostitutes cry abuse
The sleazy sluts request the best dues
But they lay, they slay their own bodies on the avenue
Daily we pass their tainted alabaster in clear view
But the loose woman wants a groom
She wants to be adorned yet ne’er been to the washing room
Standing on corners under a fabricated cloud of doom
She wants the gown of white but she is not
She is black as pure gold but her inner core rots
The harlot plays the game of self-destruction
Yet she cries foul! When retribution comes to season
Soul ties sold her out to the devils plan
Yet she wants to experience heaven in his evil hand
Depravity keeps her low, eating dust from this dry musty land
More power to the people she cries
More power to the people she sighs, she lies, she dies
Her power less, she is powerless
She can’t remove the stains from her tattered dress
She sits at the wishing well of brokenness
Excuse me Miss!
May I entice you to turn aside?
May I implore you to look inside?
May I apprise you of your inheritance?
May I shake you out of this teetering stance?
As your dry well quakes for sweet homeland waters
Streetwalker, streetwalker
Won’t you come home?
Kings daughter kings daughter
Come back to his throne
Be transformed from your wantonness
To the peaceful courts of the Kings Palace
Take your rightful place, a crowned Princess
Destined to reign as Queen
pre-ordained to fulfill your dreams
and soar as an eagle above corrupted things
walk in authority above all that is serpentine
arise and come forth kings daughter
Quench your soul. Become whole
drink your fill from the well of living water.
Kings daughter come forth.
© Gail E. Clarke 2007
