No longer walking in the Spirit, he is fighting the spirits by drowning in the spirits.
A ghost of his old self, fighting ghosts, he is missing the Holy Ghost.
The TV told him money, sex and drugs.
His pastor took his money to buy sex and drugs.
Lost in his pursuit of happiness
He has lost his suit of happiness.
Red eyes, no tears. He is full of whys and most fears.
He heard they were fishers of men.
Went out and ended up on the wrong side of the Internet.
His coat of many colors, changing faces.
The courtroom had many colors, alcoholism phases.
He had an angel trying to help him.
But all he saw was her ass.
He is skipping the beginning to read Songs of Solomon.
He knows not the end, believes his shisha puff might be the first trumpet.
They said there would be gnashing of teeth.
So he went and got himself some gold ones.
His pants hang low but his heart sinks lower.
His hair is long but he is no Nazarite.
He turns to looks at a girl and puts too much salt on his food.
He is yelling and questioning, no one to strike him dumb.
The grass he smokes does not strike him as dumb.
He is floating on a stream.
Away from the king’s daughter.
He is trying to part the sea.
Using his credit card before he sniffs it in.
He is fighting men bigger than he is.
His slingshot has metallic smooth stones too.
He is chewing the evidence.
His small ledger is as bitter as vinegar.
The cops have him; they found his valley of dry bones.
The judge washes his hands off the case.
A new condo and Bentley are the cause of a mistrial.
He did not even need to plead not guilty thrice before he won the case.
They call him a superstar.
Now he believes he is God’s son.
He is high up on the ledge.
He is hoping that angels will be sent to rescue him.
The only white he sees is the clouds.
Just before his face and the pavement become one.
He is choking on his own blood.
No one around so the rain washes the stains away.
He forgot about that Lamb’s blood.
That washes his sins away.
In his dying breath he remembers.
He owns up, asking for forgiveness.
Instead of darkness, he is now bathed in pure light.
Now walking in the Spirit, he has defeated the spirits no longer drowning in the spirits.
A real ghost of his old self, no more fighting ghosts, he has met the Holy Ghost.
The Divine Bandit™ 