Azenquor

May our thoughts, Our rhymes, Every stroke, Every line, Our purpose, Our prose, Each concept, That unfolds, Every pixel, Every click, A tablet tap, Or pencil flick, Every dream, Placed on paper, Be a flavor, For the Saviour. Let every color, Every key, Every reason, Let it be, For Your pleasure, For Your show, A favored cadence, From below, May all the brushes, All the notes, Catch every inspiration as it floats--- Hands that make, Projects a beat. God look down. They're at Your feet.