Enigma Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

God did create my inner inspiration, targeted those deep taken breath; giving His guidance to combat darkness: my x-ray eyes.

Keys holding serious aims disclose my eternal fate to show; molded by Hand from dust, I: given life air by His breath like Him.

The Royal image of Himself, where I am to exist; seated in a temple within the earth: bear that truth to me witness of His right.

I am to behold and then grow; learning about the ways of my origin in Spirit; see God intents in my tiny situation: given facts outside its torment.

I am to test all things and prove each fact; by this willingness to serve, done tasks checked, set trails of fears known: with conflicts and tribulations.

My deemed to be suffering, crossed in afflictions, laid forth the many virtues to be measured by me; given them to value: my worth.

God molded me by Hand, I exist to be defining, made from the dust of the dry ground, air to live; told by Him: I'm like Him.

Me, in this Noble likeness of, Self, is finally my end or exchange to death; being totally this placement: put my body onto the ground.

Where is that breath?