Yah Only

In twilight's hush, where shadows dance and play, A veil of deceit has shrouded the way, The Name of our Creator, hidden from sight, Twisted scriptures, a contrived plight. Man-given names, a masquerade, we've been told, False idols worshipped, the truth grows old, We call upon these empty names, unaware, Of the true Yah, who dwells beyond compare. Our Yah is just, a God of love and light, Who doesn't kill, nor condone the night, He doesn't associate with evil's stain, But stands apart, in righteousness' reign. The world, in darkness, stumbles and falls, Blinded by lies, and Babylon's fatal calls, Drinking the wine of deceit, they reel, Unknowing, the real Yah, who reveals and heals. Yahawashai, our Father, a title of reverence true, Yahuah, a name that echoes, pure and anew, The God of this world, a usurper, who hides, The truth, neglected, lies buried deep, while falsehoods reign, and our souls creep. In this abyss, we're lost, and sinking fast, Devoid of peace, in a world aghast, Yet, our Yah, a God of order, sees us whole, Equal, despite the colors that make us bold. We're one, in His sight, a tapestry so fine, Black, white, brown, and pink, a mosaic divine, No divisions, no strife, just unity and lov