conversations, you and I,
and still you refuse to change.
are these whispers or prayers?
how often we say flesh.
how often we say spirit.
the arguments keep piling up,
the excuses forming walls.
accusations are flung from the towers.
we need more watchmen on the walls.
hand them trumpets and torches,
let them hail strangers and guard the gates.
we have invited guests carelessly.
i have no idea whose side they’re on.
something sniffs around your door.
i tell you the room is haunted.
you tell me you speak with ghosts.i no longer recognize these voices.