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Psalms (1) (Louis Toliver Jr-Swartz, LA)


Lord, you are my shepherd, but I still want
Of my freedom, this world of men does taunt
I have recognized life within the greenest eye
Until there is liberation, my words will not die

If a sonnet is what I have to write to catch a brain
Your divine words I hope my soul, you gave, will drain
Grant me the peace to endure the hate of my foes
Let my voice soothe the pains of life’s expected woes

Your grace let’s me not feel just like a lost sheep
The twisted mind of man’s Death is what makes us weep
You do not give death, my Lord, and I thank you
Where there is man’s Death, you make life anew

Thank you for the making me in Your image of intellect
Thank you for giving me the love to understand your effect

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