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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