<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644</id><updated>2012-01-17T12:49:32.265-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Romantikk Expreshun</title><subtitle type='html'>Creativity Spilling Out of Me</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-4528881346762184069</id><published>2008-02-09T03:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T03:44:19.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Call</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;You ever try to avoid a phone call? Glancing at the caller ID and you notice a certain number...you roll your eyes and sigh loudly. You don't want to pick up the phone. The voice that is coming through the reciever reminds you constantly that you owe something, that you owe someone...that you have to give...and quite frankly you don't want to. There are better things that you can do with your time and money other than paying bills and donating to charities....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;However, the voice on the other end seems to think otherwise. Consistantly, the phone will ring, it will ring and ring and ring until you answer the call. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The Call.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When I review my life, it seems that God has appeared to be a telemarketer or a bill collector. Constantly calling my name; every day, every hour, every minute....constantly calling La Donna....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Upon answering "the call" I would hear a certain fee, a certain sacrifice, a certain something...that God wanted. The request was in short--my whole life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Honestly, I would dodge the "payment" and tell Him, I would send in the check in a week or two. Hug a few people and tell them Jesus loves them. However, that payment was unsatisfactory in His eyes...He called me to preach the gospel. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Sometimes, I wished I let the phone ring out and I never answered it. Ultimately, its the choice I know I have to make. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In Dean's words "&lt;em&gt;Christ, or death" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I had hoped there were other alternatives. Enticed by outside attractions, I reached. Unfortunately, I had been enveloped by "The Call" since birth. Other wrappings could barely encase me...and as I tried to cover myself in worldly adornments...it just wouldn't fit. Unfortunately, the coverings and cares of this world fell--and left me naked before my Lord, and before my world.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, for the world, at least. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;What worsened my situation, was that the garment that I removed to adorn the ridiculous rags of this world...was gone. The outer innocence and glory that I once knew was all gone.  My life had lost its luster...and now here I am alone. All alone.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Naked and ashamed before my God. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;There before Him I lay, begging to be covered....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Outstreched on the cold dirt floor, I cry out to my Lord. The smoothness of my skin is no more, for the rocks and the pebbles are now embedded into my skin, piercing my blood vessels. Red fluid pours from the holes,  and runs along the silloute of my body. Outlines of pain. Out lines of shame.  Tear ducts become sand dunes in my countenance...the well spring of emotion has run dry. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I have had it Lord. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Flashes rush through my mind. Prophesies and persecutions. Memories of misunderstood morale. They didn't understand me. They never did, and never will.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I was ahead of their time.God had been dealing with me concerning spiritual things since I was five years old. Soley for the purpose of "The Call". Yet, I refused to respond to the on going ringings of the phone. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; Is this the reason that I have been knocked about so crazily? That I have beared things at the age of twelve that people at thirty only fear and shudder? Is this a forbearance of my future?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Twisted are my mangled mind and body as I lay on the cold hard ground. I wish to remove the pebbles and rocks  that constantly tear at my flesh...however I cannot gather any strength. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lord...Lord.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I remember the days that I called upon the aid of mortal man; they are now long gone and forgotten. Lord, here I am...I call on You.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I remember those days that I layed there...without strength, without song, with out words to give You praise. I feared my heart would stop, for life was leaving me daily. Its walls crumbled. Pebbles and rocks continueously falling, piercing, ripping my flesh.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Even in my thankless times, Lord, I knew You were there...but I still lingered from answering...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I don't know when nor, I don't know how...but I remembered vitality and virtue flowing through my vains. Slowly, life...Your life, flowed through my veins.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"Lord, I thank You for Life...my life" My daily prayer...as I lingered there. Swallowing my spit, wallowing in my own blood.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lord, yes my life isn't much right now. I thank You for it. It hurts badly right now, Lord I still thank You for my life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Thank You so much for life.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Not to long ago...through Your grace and mercy...I was able to gather enough strength to sit uprightly...to lift my hands...to even stand in Your presence. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I remember...for an entire year...I sat...crippled by pain. Bound by grief.   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, [the same] loveth little."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;                      &lt;strong&gt; -Luke 7:47&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I believe I would not be as thankful as I am now to be alive...if my life was never threatened...I doubt I would be this thankful.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;[there is news that a nephew of a co-worker of mine had committed &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/skin.asp?user=Lady_Infyerna&amp;amp;nextdate=11%2F8%2F2003&amp;amp;cal=1" target="_new"&gt;suicide&lt;/a&gt;.... I remember when those thoughts flooded my mind daily...]&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"Thank You for life..Lord thank You for life"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Praise was what I did...I had to, to live.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lord, as I sat...tear stained cheecks, blood washed sins...in that crumbling mess of a room I call my life...I began to realize that You Lord, You are the Reason that I live.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Knowing this reality, I prepare myself. I pick the pebbles and the stones out of my flesh. I wash the dirt, the blood, the tears off of my mangled body. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I want to heal. Regardless of who is helping me. I am going to heal, for it is not by man I have my being...it is by Christ--that I live||that I move||that I have my very being...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Aware of my bodily disfigurement, I stand...my eyes quickly survey the contents of the room...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It is empty...save the rubble that caved in from my walls and celing... Lord I have nothing to offer You.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Nothing. Just the shards of my shattered heart. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"And, behold, there came a leper and worshipped him, saying, Lord, if thou wilt, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/skin.asp?user=Lady_Infyerna&amp;amp;nextdate=11%2F29%2F2003&amp;amp;cal=1" target="_new"&gt;&lt;em&gt;thou canst make me clean.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;                      &lt;strong&gt;           - Matt 8:2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I lift my hands to my King...for He deserves the honor...and the glory...and all my praise....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In the midst of my worship, I hear a faint ringing sound. My eyes fly open, my hands drop to my side. The return of the reminant sound, reminded me of reasons that I worship. Rotation of my eyeballs avert craizily in seach of the source of the sound of the ringing...which seems to get louder and louder....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My eyes fall upon the object in question, the phone. It shakes and vibrates with each release of sound. Why is it ringing? No one has this number. As I recall, no one wanted this number either. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I glance at my wounds, noticing the scabs that are forming.While cringing at the sight of my ugliness, the ringing of the telephone grew so loudly, that I could not pay attention to myself anymore. My gaze moves upward, and my inward thoughts rewind itself to the first time this particular phone rang. They reminded me, the reason why it rang then, and why it still rings now. Ever more loudly....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ahh. It is The Call. His call. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I believe I will answer it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-4528881346762184069?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4528881346762184069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4528881346762184069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/call.html' title='The Call'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-8488575757666769926</id><published>2008-02-09T03:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T03:44:02.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>same</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;You see the person with the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; lips that you used to kiss the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; eyes that gazed into your &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; beauty the &lt;strong&gt;sam&lt;/strong&gt;e person that used to argue about the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; reason that you are away from eachother the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; disrespect the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;romance the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; memories the same feelings the &lt;strong&gt;same....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;person glances you longs for you the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;person waits and lingers the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;way he once did so he can try to get close to you so he can repeat the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; words to retain the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; relationship that is now lost...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;and what is my response to that...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;can you remember the &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; words that denied this &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; girl who with these &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;eyes and these &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; lips and these &lt;strong&gt;sam&lt;/strong&gt;e hips that you used to hug hold and kiss?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;can you remember the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;actions that hurt this &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;girl with this &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; heart that still is healing from the&lt;strong&gt; same&lt;/strong&gt; wounds you caused by your ill manners?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;can you remember this &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;girl waited with these &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;emotions and longing that you feel now, waited for you and argued in this very &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;hallway in this very &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; university about the very &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; reasons you still want this girl?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;can you remember the&lt;strong&gt; same&lt;/strong&gt; women that you messed with and the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;women you lied about and these &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; feelings that you hurt? that you scarred?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;my response to you is the &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;as it was back then.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;now you have my &lt;strong&gt;same&lt;/strong&gt; memory.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;my &lt;strong&gt;same &lt;/strong&gt;pain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-8488575757666769926?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/8488575757666769926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/8488575757666769926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/same.html' title='same'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-6974392958688279083</id><published>2008-02-05T16:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:33:38.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Impulse</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I wish I could tell you all...tell you all what I am feeling, what I am seeing, I wish I could tell you all that at night I feel like crying and I feel like dying, I wish I could tell you all that I have discovered that I am a lost cause, covered with scratches from love's claws and life's paws. I wish I could tell you that I am progressing into regression and &lt;strong&gt;I do not want attention&lt;/strong&gt;, I wish I could tell you that when I look in the mirror and see...I  hate the mirror image that is me, I wish I could tell you I wish I was someone else and I wish I could tell you that I am loosing this battle, and that I am falling unto the ground, I wish I could tell you the fear that I face of the destiny that I erased, I wish I could tell you that I am being dragged upon trial's gravel with temptation's nails in my back. I wish I could tell you the shame that I tried to erase and the memories that flash in my face reminding me of my disgrace, I wish I could tell you that I have been wondering about returning to my grave, to the evil road that my life once paved, I wish I could tell you that I am bound by the shackles of the heathen world, I wish I could tell you that I screamed but no one heard a sound, I wish I could tell someone I loved them, but the world has gone deaf. I wish I could tell you that I have won and the world has lost, I wish I could tell you about the battles that I gained victory over, and I wish I could tell you about the defeat of the other side, I wish I could tell you of the love that has clinged to my side, I wish I could tell you that my fantasy has come true, and yes, oh yes I have fallen madly in love with you, I wish I could tell you ALL, I wish I could tell you....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;                                      ....but I can't.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-6974392958688279083?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6974392958688279083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6974392958688279083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/impulse.html' title='Impulse'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-2154637711902030922</id><published>2008-02-05T16:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:31:52.819-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resound</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My eyes were closed and my right hand was raised weakly in a mock gesture of worship as I sat in between my best friend and another young lady. They were both already standing.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;To many it would seem as if I was completely focused on the worship taking place. I definately was focused, but more accurately on the argument taking place in my mind. My Spirit and my flesh were in a heated debate when the command was given to worship. My Spirit and my flesh are always in a heated debate when worship is taking place.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My Spirit seems to always accuse my flesh of leading me astray. That my flesh has no right feeding me the desires that it does.  My flesh always defends itself.  It usually says that  its only trying to help soothe the aches and pains of my heart. As the argument heightened my eyes began to close even tighter as the minister commanded the congregation to worship God. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"If you love Him..." &lt;/em&gt;He persuaded "&lt;em&gt;...worship Him because you love Him&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Worship Him because of who He is..." &lt;/em&gt;The minister began to utter several characteristics of the perfect nature of God. His goodness, His mercy, His loving kindness, His greatness.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;As he continued to encourage the congregation to worship, it became harder and harder to hear the argument between My Spirit and flesh. Something inside of me drownded out the noise within. It  grew louder and louder as the worship of the congregation grew louder and louder.Whatever this new sound was, it sounded simultaneously with the music on the outside. Together these entites fused and created a force that caused me to want to change positions. The music was playing, the people around me were lifting their arms  and shouting praises to God on the tops of their lungs. Hallelujahs and tongues proceeded out of the mouths of those around me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I decided to alter the mock position I was in and stand. As I stood with my eyes still closed tightly, I heard the sound within more clearly. I could barely make it out at first, but as it got louder I could distinctly recognize the type of sound, a voice.  Moreover, it was a voice that was not my own. I raised my hands to my waist and laid my palms out flat, it looked as if I was begging for alms. It was another weak gesture of mine. Merely going through the Sunday morning motions. The voice did not stop speaking. It was speaking all the while, but I could not hear what it was saying. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Then I heard it. It bade me to worship Him. At that instant, I knew Whose voice it was. God was trying to get my attention. I obeyed and raised my hands over my head. I began to whisper praise. Honestly, I felt ashamed. I did not want to worship God knowing the sin that condemned my soul still resided within. God heard me, and responded to my thoughts. I did not think He would hear; furthermore I did not think He would respond.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Worship Me without shame.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But Lord, I can't. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Worship Me without shame.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And as I tried to produce reasons to convince God as to why I cannot do what He asked me to do, He kept probing me with the same command. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Finally, I decided to try to worship honestly, without shame.  My arms were raised above my head. I started to thank God for who He is. Something broke inside of me, and tears started to stream my face. The soft voice grew loud again, and shouted in my ears. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are anointed, and I will &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; let you die in your sin.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;He said it over and over and over. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shouted praise to God. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Without shame.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;His voice resounded with that phrase for the rest of the worship session. When I sat, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that finally I would be saved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-2154637711902030922?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/2154637711902030922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/2154637711902030922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/resound.html' title='Resound'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-1839901808011284436</id><published>2008-02-05T16:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:30:30.691-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning Shot</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"and I know,&lt;/em&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;yes I know, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jesus' Blood can make the vilest sinner free..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This vile sinner...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe, I do not realize the absolute seriousness of the call of God on my life. Maybe, I have been hearing it for so many years that its intensity has died down in my heart. Maybe I've become desensitized to the power of God, it’s so sad...I've become disentwined to everything else.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;To know that I have been called of God to do a tremendous work for Him used to be the most important and sole purpose of my very existence.  He used to be Who I woke up to in the morning, and Who I held close to me at night. He used to be my Only Lover, the Only One to know me intimately. He used to be my Only Lord.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Used to be&lt;/em&gt;. What a travesty and a tragedy. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, I can not pretend much longer. I have been backslidden for about three years. People call it "struggles with sin", and "trials", and "testings" "one foot in the world and one foot out"...I will call it what it is. A spade is definitely a spade.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Backward backslidden-ness. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe I'm not actually backslidden because I don't hate God and I do want to serve Him, and maybe it is just the bounds of sin that grip me so tightly. I want to be free of all of this. I promise you. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I have watched every Juanita Bynum No-More-Sheets video tape message, read every free-you-from-sexual-sin-because-you're-addicted-book, went to every altar call, kicked, screamed, hollered, went to several youth leaders for counseling, tried to cling to the pastorate, joined ministries, became a mentor for about ten people, focused my energies on school, prayed, fasted, consecrated, separated myself from my male friends, fasted from secular music...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I did all of that. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It only gets worse the more I try. The more I try to repel sin, the more I immerse myself in it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I would be "sinless" for three months, five months, eight months, whatever. The work was not permanent. It was only temporal. For all satan needed to was to touch the seemingly dead bondage within, which honestly only laid dormant and it would awaken instantly. Revived would be wickedness that I never knew existed inside of me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Inside of me lies something that is not of God. No matter how hard I try, I cannot get it out. It’s a separate entity, alive, with its own mind. It scares me to know that it is there. I have only become aware of its presence recently due to its increasing power. It grips me with fear to know that something or &lt;em&gt;someone &lt;/em&gt;besides the Holy Spirit might reside within.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It tries to control me. It reacts on impulse. When the impulse comes and encompasses me in volumes, I do not know what to do.  I fight it. I have been fighting this for almost two decades. It was much easier to control when I was younger, because there was less sin involved in my life. The activities that I have engaged in for the past three years caused this thing to grow and receive strength. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Prayer does stifle it. Worship services on Sundays are the only times when it does not react. I only out cry to God to get it out.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Whoever told you that this was an easy thing lied to you."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;People think that this freedom is easy to obtain and attain. I tell you different. I want to tell someone. But talking helps me none. I want someone to climb inside my soul and rip out by the roots what is killing me inside. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Like a catch twenty two, I swear satan is lurking at every corner trying his hardest to kill me. I am afraid. I fear meeting new people, I fear going new places, and I fear leaving my own house. Sin awaits me. I wish I could explain.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe this is all happening because satan is quite aware what I am capable of, once I am surrendered totally to God. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Forgive me Lord, I am ashamed at how many times I've prayed that prayer and not upheld my vow.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I would be doing so well, and just like that something would arise out of no where, knocking me completely off guard. Forcing me back into the cage that I escaped from for a shortened time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I peer out of the prison bars that encase me. I see freedom, but I do not know what it is. I wish to embrace it. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I heard this Sunday that God would be a liar if He did not deliver me, and God wishes me free more than I do myself. &lt;strong&gt;I believe it.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;God save me before I kill my own soul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My mind is so confused and scattered, my thoughts not cohesive. The events in my life became my point of reference and system of self-value, and I have allowed it to define my very soul. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I see myself through eyes filled with ash. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; Lust, rage, and depression are weights that I wish to throw off. Yet something within adores these as ornaments. Wears them about its neck, dives within and is enamored of it all. I am swayed by the faux passion and I enjoy the evil within. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe I am not trying hard enough.  I can't do this anymore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I read in His Word that &lt;em&gt;it’s not by might!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Must I lay here and continue to be consumed? I confessed my sin to higher authority and I only await instruction. Logic has left me; I have no clue as to how to deal with this.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In the meanwhile, while I revel in sin, I learned one thing: God is a jealous God.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;He will have no other before Him, and how dare I even try to replace Him. How dare I even try to leave His side for lesser and lost causes. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;How dare me. Do I not know who He is? In His awesome power? He who has healed me several times from illnesses that could not be cured by mankind? Do I not know how many times he has rescued me from near death? From rapists and murderers?  When satan wished to kill me God spared me over and over and over again. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The money He has provided to pay bills out of now where, the people He has placed to pick me up and pull me out of my battered state?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Do I not see His Greatness in my everyday life? How dare I behave in such a rebellious manner.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;How dare I allow &lt;em&gt;the farce&lt;/em&gt; within to control me in such a way. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But if I knew what I must do, it would be gone so quickly. If I could kill my hellish desires and restrain the evil...if I knew how....it would go. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I see God's handiwork. I see Him showing me the ways of escape.  I see it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I also see that He is taking my soul very seriously, and will not allow me to revel in sin much longer. The first warning shot was fired Sunday night. The second yester night.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I know its God. So did everyone else that noticed these warning signals. The ungodly know who He is in an instant that His presence is made known. God is a jealous God,  and He will stop at nothing to have His way.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; I better do something about the things that cause me to be cast away, before I really am permanently. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I sit here in a vicious circle. I must to right, but I can't because there is something within that seems to prevail. The more I try to fight against it, the more I loose. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God I give up. You &lt;strong&gt;have&lt;/strong&gt; to save me before I die. I see You and hear You calling my name. I would come, but I do not know where You are anymore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When will the hurting stop. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Pray for me. Prayer is supposed to work. I know we serve a good God that wants to help, pray for an answer to this problem. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I do not have one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-1839901808011284436?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/1839901808011284436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/1839901808011284436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/warning-shot.html' title='Warning Shot'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-6316798557131160815</id><published>2008-02-05T16:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:28:44.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Placing Trust?</title><content type='html'>It is the truth,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we must not pretend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All good things must come to an end,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not put your trust in man,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though he says that his love will never end,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a true test will come,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not always receive the same amount of love that we send,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only but so much they can bend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is on people we can not depend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned the hard way,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I lost my best friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-6316798557131160815?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6316798557131160815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6316798557131160815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/placing-trust.html' title='Placing Trust?'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-3147779252610506358</id><published>2008-02-05T16:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:25:31.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Montague and Capulet</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"a goodnight kiss &lt;strong&gt;takes&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;u&gt;The Queen&lt;/u&gt; but &lt;strong&gt;protects&lt;/strong&gt; the King's life ...."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;                                                                    &lt;strong&gt;- Visionaries&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its obvious that I cannot stay far from something I am so passionate about.&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Someone&lt;/em&gt; that I am so passionate about....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Have you ever known of the "&lt;em&gt;star crossed lovers&lt;/em&gt;"? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Uncertain? &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Read&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Romeo and Juliet.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It is the &lt;em&gt;most unusual&lt;/em&gt; kind of love. &lt;strong&gt;Love&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;from afar.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Wondering what it would be like if the adored from afar would ever embrace you. Ah, but you know that he is enamored of you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The way he looks at you...&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He&lt;/strong&gt; can't help it.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ah, but at surface &lt;em&gt;he is the one you deny&lt;/em&gt;. You dis-acknowledge it all. He does not fit the mold...does not fit the build...&lt;em&gt;does not&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;cannot&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If you only &lt;strong&gt;attach&lt;/strong&gt; yourself, it would only &lt;em&gt;equate death&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Hard it is to &lt;strong&gt;contain&lt;/strong&gt; the feelings...&lt;em&gt;press it down....keep it away&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It would be the most uncanny, uncommon thing&lt;em&gt;....if you were joined&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;strong&gt;to him&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It would be &lt;strong&gt;absurd,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;furthermore ridiculous&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And it shows.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Yet there's something you can not shake...&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;his&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; presence makes your heart jump. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Causes &lt;em&gt;your &lt;/em&gt;stomach to turn. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It can't be explained....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It can't be love. It just&lt;strong&gt; can't&lt;/strong&gt; be! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Emotions such as this &lt;strong&gt;do not exist&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;anymore&lt;/em&gt;. It can't exsist.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The proximity will kill you both.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If only&lt;strong&gt; you&lt;/strong&gt; could climb the walls...leap the fences...break the barriers....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;If &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; could only reach across the table....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;and touch &lt;strong&gt;his&lt;/strong&gt; hand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Maybe&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;, just maybe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, your soul would be at peace.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But you're destined to fail, &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;another of Love's broken hearted tales.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The wringing of the heart will cause you to wail.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But ah, death is inevitable, and the pain is unregrettable....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Therefore, it is unwise if you venture...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The realm is full of hate, and the love will surly die.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It would be better for you both, if your heart stays locked in a room....&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Alas, its hurting...its unsatisfied...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;but we must....&lt;/p&gt; let it cry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-3147779252610506358?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/3147779252610506358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/3147779252610506358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/montague-and-capulet.html' title='Montague and Capulet'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-6741108687257614556</id><published>2008-02-05T16:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:21:09.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lower case</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;- to request devotion is an apt request i suppose. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to understand one's addiction is another.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to see the innocence in something and not take it as an attack on you, it was only a joke. the joke had nothing to do with you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- insecurity is a demon, i realize this now.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- beauty is in the eye of the beholder, however this does not mean that this is the only reason a man stays&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- the most beautiful of women had men commit high treason against them&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- trust is something that is earned&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- some people just have to keep working&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- i have to be accepting of someone's flaws&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- they have to be understanding of my needs&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- is it even worth it to fight over?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- not when they would  give you the world and try to throw in the moon as a bonus&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- it just never sit well with me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to honor my beauty is a sign of devotion&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- does not want me to be dependant, only on myself&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- i don't think i am able to do it&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to look upon someone else and compliment, is it a crime? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- if it is who is it against?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- fear hath torment&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- had another panic attack, &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; sat with me till five the next morning&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- trying to control the evil with in, this time i don't think i can do it&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- is this battle mine?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- why hold a grudge against the innocent?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- i wish this weren't always the case with me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to think the worst of my non-enemy&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- to worry about the what ifs and the could bes, can drive me far into insanity&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- self esteem lowered, it is not always high on my list&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- help me Lord&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- if this really isn't the case,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;- i think i need to push this all a bit lower&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-6741108687257614556?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6741108687257614556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/6741108687257614556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/lower-case.html' title='lower case'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-4722194115128015106</id><published>2008-02-05T16:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:18:57.245-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Above Average</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Whenever drama of any sort arises I get nervous. I get frightened. I am afraid that the one I hold so dear to me will abandon me. Leave me to myself. Alone. Yet for whatever reason, I can never let my fear control me. Control my honesty or my clarity. I can never let the fear in me stifle my sincerity. I must be honest. The truth will always free the bondage of a mind filled with lies. Mine especially. I always think the worst of people, only because of the lies that I was once lead to believe.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It's a wonder that when I am honest, when I am transparent, when I am true, when I am completely naked before the one I adore that my nakedness, so to speak does not shame him. It is taken in. It is observed. It is handled gently. Thoughts are uttered with so much care. Harm is never meant to be inflicted. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It's a wonder that true love never runs away. Never abandons. Never leaves. Never escapes the test of time. It stands up to the trials and tribulations that are pressed against it. A world of calamity has been dumped upon it, but it finds its way out --pushes through and escapes it all.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I can never understand why anyone would love me this way. I am not the easiest person to get along with. I have so many idiosyncrasies, I have so many faults, I have so many failures-- I have enough skeletons in my closet to start a Smithsonian of my very own.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Yet, all in all he accepts me and he stays -- through it all. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Only God Himself imposes a love like that. It's the kind of love that flows through His very veins. He, in His goodness and mercy allowed it to drip into the soul of a mortal man.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This mortal man, in turn met me -- and loved me with a love that can not be contemplated. He in his modesty sees no feat, and acknowledges his faults. This is how I know that I am in His favor...He gave  me what I really wanted.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Not looks, not money, not fame....but love.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And this-- I have in abundance.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Thank you Joe. I love you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-4722194115128015106?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4722194115128015106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4722194115128015106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/above-average.html' title='Above Average'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-3455343315608511376</id><published>2008-02-05T16:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T03:02:08.342-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear and Uncertainty</title><content type='html'>Sometimes fear can grip you because you are uncertain about life. You want to make sure you are in control of everything, that way life will give way to you as you move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once my hands are wrapped tightly about something that I feel is certain I don't ever want to let it go. To me it becomes an unchangeable and I begin to build my world around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever I can't control I try to bridal it, in order to steady it and keep it at bay. My stubbornness withholds me from realizing I can't control the uncontrollable. I fight and yell and scream at the uncontrollable. I throw tantrums and demand that it allows me to command its will. I must not have uncertainty, uncertainty demands that I allow it to guide me down the dark corridors where there is no light save the one over my feet, letting me know that I am really here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate knowing that I can't predict the future, that I can not map out everything according to what I desire at the present moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be honest, I can't handle a sudden change. I freak when things that I have planned suddenly shift. I throw real tantrums, I yell at the people around me, I get angry and I just can't take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After another bout of frustration this morning, and venting at someone I love very much I realized that it was a waste of time. There's no reason to make a lot of noise over something I could never change in the first place. As a Christian, I learned the cliche "God is in control" and only used it as a catch phrase to impress others when they asked me about my livelihood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But is He really? Have I let go of myself enough so He can step in and be who He needs to be in my daily life? Have I let go of my loved ones enough so that God can work on their behalf and accomplish His will in their lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The honest answer is no. I struggle with this daily. Inside I scream in torment knowing that I really can't effect change outside of who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have learned that the only place I should be worrying about affecting change is within me. I should be the governor of La Donna, not try to govern other bodies and ignore the condition of my own heart, which will rot if the Lord doesn't purify it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being out of control is understanding that it is alright that things are not going according to plan, that its okay that the people around you aren't making the choices you want them to make, whether good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being out of control is understanding that another Power besides myself is working on my behalf and on the behalves of others that allow Him to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot allow fear to grip me any longer. Fear has held me to a point where it is difficult to do simple things like put on high heels and walk across a room in front of people. To walk down a flight of stairs, to get on an escalator. To drive a car. Fear grips me, and I want to overcome it. In order to be a servant of God you must be fear-less and faith-full. That I aspire to be in 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do this anymore. Fear has to go. It diminishes my faith in my self and in God and in others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to stop reacting to things that are out of my control and scare me in such an angry mannor, and confront them head on. To confront the devil head on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By doing so I am giving God rights to operate and pilot me down life's road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is the better navigator anyhow, by my past mistakes I should have learned  that I'm not that good of a driver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-3455343315608511376?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/3455343315608511376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/3455343315608511376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/fear-and-uncertainty.html' title='Fear and Uncertainty'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-4167946915748836852</id><published>2008-02-05T16:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:14:31.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Misery</title><content type='html'>People try their best to make your life miserable. You know why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because misery loves company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misery is a leech that likes to suck the life out of one, so that thejoy that was carried within is replaced by angush, stress,unforgiveness, strife, hate....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves to disrupt and interrupt the lifes of the happy andsuccessful. He comes subtly, pretending to be "just a cautious thought"or "that look over your shoulder" or "little piece of information aboutsomeone" or "that person who you think is your friend"... He works hisway into your life, wraps his tentacles about it and draws the joyfullife out of you that you once lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be ware of Misery. He is a very powerful advisory but he can be defeated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignore pretension! Be watchful of people who are only around youbecause of who you know. They hang on to your every word, because youhave become their fuel for classless gossip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be weary of situations where a person may have something against you!Unless you are willing to reconcile, don't bother! Even if you do wantto reconcile, be careful. That person may not mature enough, and willyeld poor results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surround yourself with people who are about accomplishing goals andmoving foward. It's really weighing to be around someone who's stillmad that they haven't been signed to the NBA, and their best frienddid...and it was five years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make friends with friendly people. Mean and nasty people deserve love,but not confidence. Never lean against a broken plank, they break tooeasily. Take time to trust people. Don't open your heart to every andanyone. Your life is precious, regard your space as such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And love to love life. Dispite all the trials and tribulations, loveyour lives and thank God. He's been keeping you all this time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And remember, beware of Misery...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misery loves company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-4167946915748836852?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4167946915748836852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/4167946915748836852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/misery.html' title='Misery'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-8679772541238990819</id><published>2008-02-05T16:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T16:10:56.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adamantium Soul</title><content type='html'>They have always suspected me to be left for dead,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pangs inside of me with feelings of dread,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating away at my very soul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving several openings and gaping holes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that it has breathed its last breath,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That my inward being will meet its death,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet life sweeps past me once again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can again stand on my own,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite how they thought I would end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an adamantium soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Healing itself always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;making itself stronger,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;withstanding the pain longer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an adamantium soul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unsusceptible to pain,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does not matter what my body loses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my soul's to gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter who hurts me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter what they try,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter how close they were&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or how far they went to pry,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take the blows of life,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as it beats upon my flesh,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In stead of retreating,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take the beating,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul does all the rest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside my darkness shines,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thriving upon its pain,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeping pride out of my side,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overpowering guilt and shame....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know you cannot kill me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you see why I don't fight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may seem as if you defeated me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end you are proven less than right....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an adamantium soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbreakable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always healing itself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always coming back to life,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not matter what happens to me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will revive despite all strife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know my soul is made of adamantium?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter that you hurt me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understand that what you just did,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did not kill me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just brought me back to life....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-8679772541238990819?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/8679772541238990819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/8679772541238990819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2008/02/adamantium-soul.html' title='Adamantium Soul'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098410790731922</id><published>2004-07-27T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:08:27.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Battleflow </title><content type='html'>Battleflow &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...am lonely...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...am sad...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...am tired of being single...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...am feeling really bad...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...know that i can make it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but...its really easy to fake it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;look...at this heart i can break it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but...true love can wait can't it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;stuck between a rock and a hard place/slowing in my pace/ glancing up at Your face/and looking at how behind i am in this race...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i feel so far from You...like I am slippin...my soul is trippin'...over the rocks and the miles that we call trials....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ugh...metaphorically speaking...this heart of mine is really leaking...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I came to You before...i don't want to feel this pain anymore...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i prayed last night...help me again...my mind is filled with too much...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;who what when....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;glancing at the sins of yesterweek...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;glancing at the mindset of way back then...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...swear i am loosing my bearings and i am falling apart...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...gotta get myself together...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...have to beat this system...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i...have to change my rythym...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;to win this race i must move through His grace...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;make the devil a disgrace...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and keep up the plesant pace...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but how can you run when you can't walk...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and how can you stand when you don't have any legs....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098410790731922?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098410790731922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098410790731922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/battleflow.html' title='Battleflow '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098399248747846</id><published>2004-07-27T23:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:16:25.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jail Cell</title><content type='html'>Jail Cell &lt;br /&gt;I dunno what to say how to feel nor what to think. &lt;br /&gt;My insides are caving in, and my heart begins to sink. &lt;br /&gt;Listening to the clink of it hitting the hollowness of the inner me, &lt;br /&gt;Drowing in my sorrows...i desire another drink. &lt;br /&gt;Drunk i am with the cares of my world, &lt;br /&gt;Drunken with my hearts pain. &lt;br /&gt;My insides scream out of their imprisonment, &lt;br /&gt;My tears remain in jail. &lt;br /&gt;Trampled my heart is, &lt;br /&gt;*peering through the bars* &lt;br /&gt;'...see how men fail...' &lt;br /&gt;Imprisoned i am, i cannot go. &lt;br /&gt;This is the torchure of my hearts woe. &lt;br /&gt;His eyes scan the inner me, rather intentionally. &lt;br /&gt;Noticing my drunkin state, &lt;br /&gt;Knowing I want to evacuate, &lt;br /&gt;Yet he is statisfied, &lt;br /&gt;Moreover gratified. &lt;br /&gt;Love screams 'let me go'. &lt;br /&gt;Yet it is a given, &lt;br /&gt;To know that he would have me hidden, &lt;br /&gt;My love cannot escape, &lt;br /&gt;My pain cannot aliveate, &lt;br /&gt;A rock and a hard place, &lt;br /&gt;Tears refrain their appearence on my face, &lt;br /&gt;And here i remain, &lt;br /&gt;Not alowed to give, &lt;br /&gt;Not alowed to recieve, &lt;br /&gt;All i can do is hope and believe. &lt;br /&gt;Now I cannot speak, &lt;br /&gt;Now I cannot listen, &lt;br /&gt;Trapped i am, &lt;br /&gt;In this emotional prison. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098399248747846?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098399248747846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098399248747846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/jail-cell.html' title='Jail Cell'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098394549988619</id><published>2004-07-27T23:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:16:07.026-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain is the Language</title><content type='html'>Its the pain in his eyes...I can't help but feel...the pain in his eyes.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he looks at me...when he looks at life... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The emotion he pulls out of me....revealing the immensity of the heart break.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rejection....reaches me.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Love me' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his soul cries... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'touch me....feel the breaking of my already shattered heart... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peel of the mask that mellows my mental...and see me for who I am.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone who wants a lot of love...' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I look at him...I see straight into his soul.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone who wants to be loved....someone who wants to be whole... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it speaks to me...I know his pain. I live his life.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rejection is my everyday strife....my chalace...from which I drink... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the drownding ocean to which my soul sinks.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'wrap your arms around me.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and make me feel loved' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my soul seems to say.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'free me from all of my hearts decay' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when he looks at me...I know this pain is all that he can see.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its far reaching....and so beseeching.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord Jesus....we've connected on such a intimate level...the language spoken without any words.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain is the language that our hearts have heard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098394549988619?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098394549988619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098394549988619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/pain-is-language.html' title='Pain is the Language'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098382664664769</id><published>2004-07-27T23:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:20:47.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every N**ga Wants the Same Thing </title><content type='html'>Every N**ga Wants the Same Thing &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every n**ga wants the same thing&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No house, No car, no diamond ring.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When they look at you their mind goes "cha ching"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because every n**ga wants the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They always ask you to see them afta class,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All they want is a piece of ass,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They act really nice like they like you,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But all they want to do is screw,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is no value added to you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Respect is the key, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But they never see past their visions of you on your knees,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sex is the only thing on their mind,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its a pitty that we women are becoming like their kind,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But alas, every n**ga wants the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No one wants to see who u are,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They just want to drive you like a brand new car,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Except they crash you on the side,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And they mess up you mind,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You wanted trust, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But they kept looking at your bust,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every n**ga wants the same thing,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On looks alone, they call you on the fone,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You say "friend"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They say "bend"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every n**ga wants the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The one time we pick to trust, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is the every time they pick to lust.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They knew from the start, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That they would break your heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You just wanted love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And that is why you let him rub.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And your heart started to sing,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By then that n**ga took everything,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then you are left alone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every otha n**ga has gone home,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the cry that broken women sing,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That every n**ga wants the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098382664664769?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098382664664769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098382664664769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/every-nga-wants-same-thing.html' title='Every N**ga Wants the Same Thing '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098388839594229</id><published>2004-07-27T23:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:04:48.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joker </title><content type='html'>The Joker &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i am a joke...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;a big joke...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;men lie to me so they can laugh at me...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i am a big joke.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is no one in this world made for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Only to hurt me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am a big joke...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ha ha ha, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lets all have a laugh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Make up nice words, coujure up nice crafts...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Broken and bleeding me, is only worth a laugh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They say things in hopes of sleeping with me, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Having me in hopes of him actually keeping me...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh what a shame, i am just a game...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so they play me...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cause I am just a joke...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;vaporizing up in pure smoke.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ha Ha Ha...can't you see me laughing too,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Laughing at the pain you put me through, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the time you spent, geting my head bent,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And my heart open...all of that for a 5 minute token.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I am broken. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;God take my heart away from me, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so I will never have the emotions to feel. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There will be nothing left to steal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I must build up the gates of my heart, so no one could get in from the start.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How high shall I build my walls, so the inner most parts of me will not fall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The men in my life, cause me pain and strife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They would choose a slut over me as their wife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No one wants this black sheep, the emotional freak,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The imperfect shame, so they play me as a game.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Looks are decieving and words are believing,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Toys are hearts and Legs are parts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then they turn and point to me as the blame,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because my innocence ruined their life long game.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They had a heart they told me, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"and it scolded me"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Conscience protected my body, but lies still filled my head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The tears flow on to my bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I am broken, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But now I have awoke, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have come to this conclusion,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cannot be loved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am too busy being laughed at as a joke.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098388839594229?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098388839594229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098388839594229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/joker.html' title='The Joker '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098377586943512</id><published>2004-07-27T23:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:02:55.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Compromise</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Compromise&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The pulling inside me, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tearing at my soul, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cry at night to be whole.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I live two lives, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like a husband with two wives,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I serve two masters, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My mind mentally mashes,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As my lifestyle clashes,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Confusion comes to mind, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Intangled in this honorless bind,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am searching, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am looking,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am lost,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My life is what this might cost,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I need something,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I need Someone, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To fill this soul,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To make me satisfied,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lord I am so gratified...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But then I am not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why wouldn't this battle stop?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Especially when i don't fight,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even though I know its right.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Servant of the Most High God"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is actually a big fraud.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The things I do for love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yet I never recieve,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I want to look to God,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I am not too sure I believe,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I know Whom I need to recieve,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I play this terrible game,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And inturn I live in this terrible shame,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to obey,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;before my life is taken away,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The devil is lurking,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But my heart is hurting,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know in my heart to listen to The Wise,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yet my life is a big compromise.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098377586943512?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098377586943512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098377586943512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/compromise.html' title='Compromise'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098371034295640</id><published>2004-07-27T23:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:01:50.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Act like nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;Smiles all the same, &lt;br /&gt;Hugs all the same. &lt;br /&gt;Tell me I am so pretty,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Play me like a game....&lt;br /&gt;Bump me as we walk, &lt;br /&gt;Flirt as we talk, &lt;br /&gt;Intrested? Concerned?&lt;br /&gt;At least you put on the act,&lt;br /&gt;But I thought that Being Real today was based on yesterday's facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098371034295640?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098371034295640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098371034295640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098365937152394</id><published>2004-07-27T23:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:19:16.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>His Name </title><content type='html'>His Name &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His name moved mountains across the sea&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His name controlled every swish and sway of every last tree&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His name performed miracles to heal the deaf and blind&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His name is the most powerful I could find&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Emmanuel, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we all hail to His glorious fame&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His name is Jesus, and don't you ever forget &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His Name&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098365937152394?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098365937152394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098365937152394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/his-name.html' title='His Name '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098359477250154</id><published>2004-07-27T22:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:13:53.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anymore </title><content type='html'>Anymore &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I saw them again...walking together smiling...laughing...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;its a wonder why...why Lord? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hurt. I hurt a lot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Smile and suck it up. That is what I do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To others my pain is absolutely no clue. Yet I thought that my 6 months of waisted time, would have earned his love and his "be mine"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obviously, I wasn't worth his time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its hard to believe that there isn't another with tricks up his sleave...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He earned my trust, then turned to leave...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;look at how tightly to my sister he cleaves...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not to lick my wounds or dwell on my pain. Just that my life isnt the same...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Smile awhile and give my face a rest, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Turn a round to see satan lerking to come and steal the best, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ugh...someone else? Does he exist...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When He mends my bleeding heart, how can I persist.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lord knows what I need. It is not a man...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but a gentle touch from His healing hands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But after i give it all will I have none?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No one to love me, no love nor some?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Will lonliness embody me?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;am i doomed to be a lone?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;size doesn't matter, but why am i told i am over grown?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I haven't cried it out...I can't cry nor outpour...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*rubs on my heart, for i feel it is sore*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here comes the ailing servant, who crawls to Your door...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Retrieve me Lord Jesus, I can't take it anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-© DaLuvelyLadyL. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098359477250154?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098359477250154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098359477250154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/anymore_27.html' title='Anymore '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098346368130189</id><published>2004-07-27T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T22:57:43.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Competitors </title><content type='html'>Competitors &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You are the competitors and i am the prize.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Or is it that you are just trying to get in between my thighs?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That sounds very scary that both of you think so contrary.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How could you think that way?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it my world?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Or am I trapped in a dome?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This game I am playing &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Carried me far from home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You kiss me once, he kiss me twice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lets all play friendly, fair, and nice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No one pull from this L' can suffice,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One life to live?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Take me, pass me around...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;puff, puff, give.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098346368130189?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098346368130189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098346368130189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/competitors.html' title='Competitors '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098340784363415</id><published>2004-07-27T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T22:56:47.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Gravy </title><content type='html'>All Gravy &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Late nite phone calls out of the blue to ask how are you and if we are alright.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since when? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was definately a first...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But you didn't want to admit till last nite...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that the gap between us is bridging us tight...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;moreover that high wall, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;one more push and it will fall,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it took you a whole day to admit...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that my sister is who you would like to submit...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;as the woman that you see fit...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but its all gravy,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;hey baby,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i move out the way, i saw it coming anyway,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;my heart sags low, and my feelings are touchous,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i got love for you, but i got no trust...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;don't hate on me...i'm fabulous...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;one day you'll see me glamourous...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and then you'd wish to be the one to fall, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;matrimony and pictures on the wall...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;a disagreement that started the month before May...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it's seperating us...we'll settle it today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but it just might reverse and unite us...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but its all gravy....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;[hum to the tune of Jaheim's Fabulous]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098340784363415?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098340784363415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098340784363415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/all-gravy.html' title='All Gravy '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098331888015826</id><published>2004-07-27T22:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:10:53.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All In Vain </title><content type='html'>All In Vain &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am not a game dont play me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;listen to the words you say to me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They have gotten into my head, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now tears wet my bed,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Refilling my life with sorrow,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wish there was no tomorow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You used to stick to me like glue,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now I have to spend my life without you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How could you make the promises that you did not keep,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How could you roll in your sleep,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't you know women are drawn by what you say,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you know you have entrapped me this way?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I told you that this has happened before,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Someone damaged my heart's door,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I told you I was closed for repairs,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And you flew in with no cares,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tried to tell me you were the one,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and to stop looking my search was done,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but this was just vain chatter,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and my heart to you was such a childish matter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Could not handle the reality,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lust is vanity,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Attraction to the outer part,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is not the way to a woman's heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the bandages you have begun to unravel,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Caused my heart to spill as gravel,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I watched as they hit the floor,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You realized I was not a game anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And now you are gone, disappeared&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is what I always feared,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that seriousness would never circumfrence this matter,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;that my heart would re-shatter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As glass breaks apart,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is what has been rendered to my heart.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Baby, you should of left me alone, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You should of let me heal,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know you wanted to know just how I feel,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;wrapped inside of your arms,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but these were just vain youthful charms.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098331888015826?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098331888015826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098331888015826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/all-in-vain.html' title='All In Vain '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098310963313543</id><published>2004-07-27T22:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T23:10:04.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bondage </title><content type='html'>Bondage &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;you wanna see true beauty...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;just look in the mirror...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but something is wrong with your paradigm...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;you want a man to tell you "be mine"...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and you look away...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;to your dismay your looks begin to falter,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and he began to assault her...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;words...make your world...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;bind your mind...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;uglyness is a state of being that suffers woman kind,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we wear tight clothes,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;makeup on our faces,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;vikie secret our body embraces,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we vulgarize our sex lives,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we let them between our thighs...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but at night outpours the silent cries,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;because it doesn't fill the void,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;something we can't avoid...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;be open and free...leads to heartbleed contineously,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we do too much,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and cannot feel the human touch...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;are we liberated?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;or just satanically bound?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;because we want to look like J-Lo with Beyonce's sound,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;why can't we cover up,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;why can't we be fat...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;our mind is focused on enticing men like that...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but we go through the pain...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and endure all the shame...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and they throw us aside...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and we cry in the rain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hold us Jesus.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Help me Lord,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;for I am blind...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Liberate this bound and broken mind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098310963313543?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098310963313543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098310963313543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/bondage.html' title='Bondage '/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769644.post-109098025932133745</id><published>2004-07-27T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T22:50:38.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Way Too Much On My Mind</title><content type='html'>I have way too much on my mind. &lt;br /&gt;Full of mixed emotions, &lt;br /&gt;laced with a hint of paranoia. &lt;br /&gt;Stress befalls me, &lt;br /&gt;and nervousness rises within me, &lt;br /&gt;For I believe that I am a farce. &lt;br /&gt;The Christ that is surpressed within me, &lt;br /&gt;weighed down by the wages of my very sin, &lt;br /&gt;tries to evade the gaping hole that its in, &lt;br /&gt;the Power of God that is within me, &lt;br /&gt;I need it to deliver me, &lt;br /&gt;for I am a farce, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;I cannot bare the name of Christ, &lt;br /&gt;I cannot lead the Holy life, &lt;br /&gt;for I forever make mistakes, &lt;br /&gt;the reversion of the heart that breaks, &lt;br /&gt;I know that there are many watchful eyes, &lt;br /&gt;and many open ears, &lt;br /&gt;who bare witness to the farce, &lt;br /&gt;who bear witness to the farce.... &lt;br /&gt;upon my every stumble the stong holds get stronger, &lt;br /&gt;the way to my deliverance is longer, &lt;br /&gt;and my life becomes more somber, &lt;br /&gt;sultry, &lt;br /&gt;sizzling in its own juices, choaking on its own blood. &lt;br /&gt;No tongues that I speak can free me, &lt;br /&gt;no song that I can sing can free me, &lt;br /&gt;the prayers that I planned to pray have never taken effect, &lt;br /&gt;and my spritual life is likened unto my bedroom, &lt;br /&gt;it is a wreck, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;there is a bottom that I hit, a soul that is so unfit, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;the mercies of God contineously befall me, &lt;br /&gt;where I sit, and it makes absolutely no sence. &lt;br /&gt;I mean to hear "depart from me you evil one" and drive me hence, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;the wording of my lips becomes vile, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;as hate becomes my style, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;and the chains become present about me. &lt;br /&gt;I want to break free, &lt;br /&gt;this blind woman needs to see, &lt;br /&gt;and I cry on no bended knees, &lt;br /&gt;for my pride bridles me unhumbly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Lord why do You love me, &lt;br /&gt;why do You pour out so much on someone who does not deserve it? &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;You are so good to the evil and so loving to the one full of hate, &lt;br /&gt;why in my life You participate? &lt;br /&gt;why have You not aliviated Yourself out of my proximity? &lt;br /&gt;You choose not to, and embrace me in Your Holy Trinity. &lt;br /&gt;Now that I bare witness to Your Undying love, &lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord heal me, Oh Endless Dove, &lt;br /&gt;Touch me Jesus I beg You now, &lt;br /&gt;I want to reach You but I don't know how. &lt;br /&gt;-© DaLuvelyLady&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7769644-109098025932133745?l=daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098025932133745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7769644/posts/default/109098025932133745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daluvelyladyl.blogspot.com/2004/07/way-too-much-on-my-mind.html' title='Way Too Much On My Mind'/><author><name>Elle Dee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16186527837698171935</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmsrxXz1ToE/Tk8N3_O01dI/AAAAAAAAAGU/mKkPliGWAjc/s220/263037_797786572340_18901447_39749349_5206250_n.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
