Concealed Wine

I know that the wine dripping from my heart sometimes goes dry and I'm back at the start.

I miss the days where I'd reread the truth and the knowledge brought forth was something brand new.

I know you have the power to perplex and amaze, I've seen it first hand in my manical days.

Yet mystery reigns supreme before and after you teach, sometimes left half enlightened, for your message I'll reach.

Coming up empty I sit and wonder why, that for one second I'm quenched but most of the time I'm left dry.

A big concern surrounds my old deceiving delusion, if the Spirit is in me, then why such evil intrusion?

They do as your will allows, and this I know all too well, my confusion for them does arouse, why you allow them to I can't tell.

The harder I try, the less you reveal.
So much to learn, so why conceal?