Before morning and the
light of day, we awaken
ourselves, and without delay
go out to pick up pearls

And in life's coves,
amongst weedy woes
we glean for ourselves -
pearls

Don't give me praise
but rather tell me,
is your soul fed?

my actions, these movements
are not to idolize self
but to feed your soul;
to build you up
and tear me down

this self-centered being
for too long a time
has, unawares, campaigned
to be queen of the castle
and you the dirty rascal

but no more, for in quest of
self, I die slowly, whither
to the soul and I lay
gasping

So my Father showed me
deny thy self, and pursue
the building up of others

so, are you being fed?

Father,

How profound is Your love for me
and yet the word "profound"
already appears cheap to these eyes
and I attempt to
cut the very words from a
soul that truly utters praise
upon exaltations layered
within hallelujahs to
a world set in boxes
and a black hearted self