Walking in the deep south in search
for survivors of the war against the man,
I stood still while the cowards ran,
standing strong with the laws of the
holy sprit running through me,
alongside me is my son and his mother,
a family structure with only one goal,
to save the people wandering the musty
and rusty waters of the deep sea, dividing
us from them is a bridge built by the many
men whose faces reflect my own, yet the
strength in my blood is flawless,
spectators of this war will explain it
clear after my death, they too saw the
imagery of the holy sprit flow through me,
moving buildings with words of man, a gift,
a feeling, a dedication to God and his teaching,
all those reading should understand one thing,
when my time here is done look closely to
these words and you'll find the life of
the author, the holy ghost and the holy book,
take it for what you want, the truth is found
in these rusty boots as I travel with my family
to find the answer to the many questions unanswered,
I am Jarret Murnick

The story of my unkown father