Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. Ecclesiastes 1:2

From vanity to Christ

This long or short grotesque shadowy path, this dreadful sorrowing sojourn through the vale, this burden of ceaseless hope banished at the instance This thing we called Life, puny bay leaf of time. marooned by rigours from birth, sentences of windy chase, asperity and exertion as attendances. the quest for known yet unknown. the rat-race for passing filth,

where dirt conquers dirt for dominance Pride garbed in many forms Multitudes Journeying on paths of obscurity Even Solomon searched in vain, so did i till i reach the precipice. When in troubadour i transverse through the dreary path, I heard of King Jesus. I looked up the hill Calvary, the fountain from the Pierced side flowing free, He bade my anxious soul to His rest. I fled, still fleeing from aimless and empty toils to Christ the King of mercy. with eye set on His Light he leads through Jordan vale, The Risen king gives me hope. And this for me is more than gold