psalms
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I shall write a song for SolTo whom i give controlI trust you God in everything.You’re the one who makes me whole.I’ll annoy the rest with praiseI give you my remaining daysBut that’s just fine they can learn from meI’ll be there to help always
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Psalms are songs sung to oneself.I know it might seem strange.But that’s the truth. The Word is sooth.They’re to the soul. It’s plain.For waxing allegoricalIs as old as Lit’rature.It’s older, still, than Sappho.It did not start with her.
Musings of the Mad 