Running down the isle of hope, I fall beneath the murky waters of doubt. Trying to hold onto the steady branches of faith, I slip into the warmth of you. Holding onto the tendrils of grace, bewildered by the sprite of your face. Your life, your all, I feel your everything; your wings beneath my feet lifting me high, above the skies, above the tides. And on the day, in time and space when salvation shall come, I shall behold your love. By Emmanuel Johnson, Adetiloye, Maybelle.