Mischief

 
operation black ops
I seek the heavenly realms
I am in the throne room where I pray night and day
I am in hell where I take a look around

this dimension is bending with growing pains
the universes recognize this
the stars in the celestial themselves attest to the truth

the heavens tremble
and I feel frightened
so I look inward
I know what I'm hearing
but seeing is believing
only God could orchestrate this

I study the texts of the ancients
angels vie for the attention of our maker
he is a popular man

who I am isn't important
I pray I have value to his heart
sanctity the blood

they call me Mischief
I'm of a mixed race
the bitter and the sweet are flowing though my veins

God can make pure energy even from me