Anti-Depravity Part 2: Prelude To Purity

I thought the small black bag said 'GOAL'
So I pulled it out and searched it
Within the bag were  photographs
Of years with my son called 'Outfit'

I saw a photo from my son
With him and I both smiling
I cut off both my enemies
So I could keep from crying

There is no Shane nor Rachel
In the photos that I studied
I don't know why what once was dear
Now seemed so sad and muddy

I chose Michigan with some hope
For some happier tomorrows
But the hope that I once had is gone
And each day is filled with sorrows

I'm not depraved, I miss my son
I wonder how he lives
I wonder if he's now depraved
And just what he thinks of 'sieves'

I sort through the past once in a while
Since I'm not 'Always Dreaming'
Reality is cruel sometimes
So often tears start streaming

If the 'GOAL' had been to see my son
In pictures from our past
I only saw what hurts the most
A love that did not last

Woe is me! I looked again
The bag did not say 'GOAL'
Like Isaiah 47
The bag is marked with 'COAL'

There is no light within the bag
The pictures cannot speak
I have no choice now, I must fast
I know I'm getting weak

I'll count the omer, keep God's feasts
I'll battle against sin
The pictures now can go back
Into the black fabric 'COAL' bin

Like any other sorrowful mother
It's not a joy to see
A son who cares not for his 'mom'
Since his god's not Israeli

There are good rules for Israelites
Who want to be called 'good'
Precepts,statutes, judgment calls
Will guide saints.... not dead wood.
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Isaiah 47 is not a starting point nor a finishing point; it is a turning point.