The Researcher’s Journal by Emmanuel Ude
To the past, therefore, went I
To find the cause of this brokenness.
As I gained depth, this trio was constant:
Pride, lust of the eye, lust of the flesh.
I wish I could pretend I did not foreknow.
Our ancestors sold us in pursuing it,
The receipt of the transaction is in our blood,
As a new code in our DNA, part of our make-up.
Yet this is not the secret I desire to unveil,
Truly, this is no secret at all.
We have been sold, that you know,
Yet I say to you, we have been redeemed,
With the receipt of transaction before God Himself!
Let the bondman therefore call on God, His Savior
And the receipt shall be given him,
Even presented to his old master.