Chronicles of the Tribe of Eight
In the twilight of their years, they joined as one, Momma’s grace,
Daddy’s wisdom spun.
Golden ages, tales untold,
Strands of history, some dark, some bold.
Eight souls, the lineage spread,
Bearing secrets of the dead.
Visionaries in their sight,
Hearing echoes in the night.
Vessels of an ancient creed,
Within them sown, a fated seed.
The unseen world, it stakes its claim,
Through senses far from all mundane.
What’s concealed shall find its host,
Whispered in the unseen ghost.
Essence beyond crude mortal frame,
Infinity from whence we came.
Place your query in the air,
Past the veil, there’s much to share.
Fathers, fathers, lineage traced,
To roots of Abraham, embraced.
Judah’s roar, Peace’s reign,
An octet loved, despite the pain.
Cycles begin, end, and spin anew,
In this wrestle, our virtues grew.
Not against the blood and flesh we war,
But principalities of yore.
The accuser casts his ruthless blame,
Satan, by his churlish name.
He brings his ploys to thwart, entrap,
In generational coils, we snap.
Yet, inclinations of ancestral cries,
Are but shadows under celestial skies.
The adversary, he knows our name,
The purpose kindled, an inward flame.
But as he sneers at history’s page,
We’ll speak his end, in victory’s stage.
From sin’s cradle, a plan arose,
Christ’s blood, the river that flows.
A chance to cleanse, to rinse, to swim,
A lance of light through prospects dim.
A legacy, if sown aright,
Breaks forth from soil into the light.
She ascends, and so do I,
Tribe of Eight, beneath the sky.
Sibling to sibling, the call we heed,
In unity, our truth is freed.
From the Seventh’s heart, a vow to keep,
So rise, my kin, from slumber deep.
Commenti