MY GOLD, MY MYRRH, MY FRANKINCENSE

Lord souls are my Gold
Hearts flayed by moral failure
Feet manacled in hell’s allure
Hands shackled in sufferings untold
I offer them to You as my Gold
True, eternal and pure.

My tears are my Myrrh
Dropping from my heart’s hearth
To preserve the treasure in this jar of earth
Droplets: bitter-sweet
Liquid: "cold-heat"
Substance: hearty and meet
This is the lyrics on my lyre.

On my knees I offer my Frankincense
Garbed in my priestly ephod
And enabled by the Spirit’s effort
Its fragrance rises to Your throne
As the particles awaken the drugged in sin
My incense is frank and quickens my sense
Happy birthday my Lord and my Own.