Mere Messenger

Two I used to speed my way
Two more to aide my breath and still
A final pair to
Bear my flesh
From pains that always tried to stay

Those six wings were broken long ago

Oh Father, did you hear them snap

And break away

And splinter,

Showered on the ground below?

I was once your Malachi,
Your weeping one to prophesy,
With tears to cry that never
Found their rest.
Once I had a purpose here,
A path to tread, a burden dear,
But now a mere worn messenger
With nothing left...

There were days I flew through sunsets
Sometimes it was through a starlit sky
And children laughed
And men would
Beg me just to be their guest.
Now I crawl on hands and knees, less
Than a man, more in the dark and
No one leaves lights
On for one
Who's made himself a wingless son.

I was once your Malachi,
Your weeping one to prophesy,
With tears to cry that never
Found their rest.
Once I had a purpose here,
A path to tread, a burden dear,
But now a mere worn messenger
With nothing left...

In a heartbeat,
White clouds were cold and black.
With no warning
Hail rained upon my back.
Yet it was not your failing
When I crashed upon the moor
But simply I grew weary
Of flying anymore...

"Reclaim this poor repentant fool"
I scream, as if the night can hear me;
And a Voice shoots
Through the sable
"That was all you had to do"
Soaring now with seraphim,
Through fair or stormy weather, and
When flying gets
Too tiring
I glide upon His airy breath of wind

Yet again your Malachi,
Your weeping one to prophesy,
Tears of delight mixed in
With tears of salt.
Again I have a purpose here,
A path to tread, a burden dear,
And through the ups and downs
So thankful for it all...

So sayeth The Brad...