By Joshua Roscoe

I search without a guide
For the lost treasure known as peace
I wander from home to hotel as I travel
My endless Journey

I find some wayside vendor
A peddler of wares not fulfilling
Yet I buy them with the illusion of happiness

As my eyes lose focus on the invisible trail my heart would follow
I step forward knowing the path with facts eluding my every thought

The desert I am in is incomplete
As rain from Heaven falls and gives life
To its troubled soil

I lose my grip on humanity as the hatchlings of philosophy fall from the nest
Of absolutes.

My morals are compromised as a burglar takes what is his choice
And leaves an empty sign of what goods he has stolen

Only with life can I discover the fruits of mortality’s tree as they fall from the branches of sin.

I find the definition of my being as I wrong the perfect canvas of my painter’s design

The mistakes of my youth and the bias of my age turn crimson the purity of soul innocence

The consolation of my actions brings salt to the wounds of hurt in my memory
I wash them clean with the mud my essence is

I try to justify my selfish generosity
Giving as I say, yet taking as I help with a devil’s heart

No longer will I conform to the oneness of my flesh
This floating anvil sinking in a sea of iron

I pray to Him to take my body through His golden gardens, yet hold the chains that bind me to the brimstone of belligerency

Oh my God my Savior King
That You would make me as the leaves that obey the wind

Send me to my place of righteousness so You may glory what You would have done

© 2006, ninetyandnine.com

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Joshua Roscoe is currently living in Northeast Oklahoma at a Teen Challenge Youth Ranch, working with His Lord through the journey from substance abuse to freedom. He can hardly wait to turn 18 and own a fat, marmalade cat.