The Holy Man.
The atheist, so cold, so sure,
that his belief keeps him secure.
He may be right for all we know,
as honesty gives out lifes glow.
His mind is centred on his being.
Won’t believe what he is seeing.
Dreams ? they’re for fools.
The atheist finds other tools.
What a pity he can’t see the sanity in fantasy.
That world that hides behind the screen.
Where we all go, and have all been.
The guitar plays, how does he feel ?
Why, just like you. His love is real.
The tingle up this cold mans spine.
Confirms that his mind, could be mine.
He will wait quite patiently,
understanding what he sees.
But a mind based on security,
will bring the man down to his knees.
If his love is taken from this world,
his tears will flow, so uncontrolled.
It’s then, this man will surely see,
The White Gate,
and his destiny.
Love, he’s always had for sure.
But he never knew of the open door.
Where he can pass through,
night or day.
Where he will find lost love,
and pray.
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