Twisted twigs and knotted vines
Tell the story of my hurting soul
Beneath the smiling face I present
Dwells the pain of a blotted past.

Flowing fluid in a mashy clime
Clean sap channeled in vines
From roots embedded in filthy swamps
Story of my life
The blood in my veins
Sitting in the guilt of self blame; shame.

Flooded by the rainforest storm
The waters as stagnant as my progress
The thick African drops from the skies
The sandy drips from the tree barks
Reminding of blessings unused.

So I pray the adventurer comes my way
With his sharpened machete
Tearing at my filth and dismay
Untangling the twisted twigs and knotted vines
I pray the heart hunter brings hope
To this jungle that is my soul.