Thorns sprang from cursed soil to choke your Word.
My flesh travels in a convoy of lies
Blinded by riches of my own franchise.
Consumerism drew me from what was heard
Substituting Holy Truths with absurd.
Seeds were planted to delight many eyes
Instead deceitful desires got allies.
To stop your dear Word from being anchored.
The way to crawl back to that quiet place
Is to turn my mind from temporal things
My heart will be near the Glory of God
By casting out items that take much space.
Fancy cars, spacious homes, and golden rings
Will not prevent me from his Holy Rod.