In outskirts dusted, cracked and worn, there lived a man named Eli,
A carpenter whose rugged hands had tilled beneath the burning sky.
His eyes, though aged with countless years, still held a restless flame,
A ghost of dreams once vivid, now subdued by dust and shame.

At dawn the fire cracked its bones, stale bread breathed heavy sighs,
The muezzin’s call would echo through the canyon’s silent cries.
Beneath a sun that kissed the earth with tongues of molten flame,
Each day repeated like a curse, yet nothing stayed the same.

Today the wind bore whispered tales across the arid street,
Of one who came from distant lands with wounds he chose to meet.
A man called Jesus—miracle-sung, whose touch could heal and save—
But burdened eyes betrayed a weight no mortal strength could brave.

Eli watched him approach the town; soft prints upon the sand—
A stranger cloaked in shadowed light who bore no sword or brand.
The folk drew near with whispered hope while Eli’s heart grew cold—
For in those haunted eyes he saw old battles dark and old.

Ten days beneath the ruthless sun—the hunger deep and bare—
Jesus stood alone in silence, shrouded more than clothing’s wear.
His cloak hung loose like broken wings; his skin as taut as drum;
A war between temptation’s grip and something far more glum.

The townsfolk came with crippled faith to beg for healing’s art;
Their shattered limbs and broken dreams lay heavy on their heart.
Yet Jesus turned away from all—the crowd dissolved to doubt—
Was this a prophet sent to save, or lies that whispers shout?

Eli felt within those depths the storm no eyes could see:
A fight for life beyond his own—a fierce new birth to be.
From ash of desert’s ruthless breath and trials forged unseen—
Would darkness yield to fragile dawn where hope might bloom between?

The dusty town lay hushed again—a place half left behind,
Yet stirred was something tender there—a seed within man’s mind:
Though barren land may crush the soul beneath its cruel reign,
New life clings tight within despair… waiting to rise again.

A Moment Between Temptations Grip and Something Far More Glum

Songwriter under Artist development : James Sanger. Represented by Anara Publishing +44 (0) 116 253 0203 (ext. 4)

A Moment Between Temptations Grip and Something Far More Glum

Gabriel Brox