Elijah, can you hear me?
The rock of all prophets, uplifted in the streets.
Feared by the man better known as woman.
Casted into heaven, history warns the souls.
I give you my words so I too can be bold.
Sold as a slave.
Rising from the grave.
Dying on a cross that hangs sideways.
I see between hieroglyphics through stories untold.
You save good people when events unfolds.
A chariot of men riding on waves.
Casting out spirits that hold us as slaves.
History prevails in a story so bold.
Standing in a field that grows and grows.
Elijah was a rock, casted into heaven.
It took many prophets, I counted 11.
Rise on the third day see what you can.
A bridge on holy water catch me if you plan.
Elijah was a rock, history repeats.
Falling from the heavens to save little sheep.
As time goes on and the cycle completes, Elijah will return and arise from the streets.
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