New Jeru

 

Spoken Word by Mikey & V

I don’t march for marble cities.
I don't bow to crumbling crowns.
I walk toward something unseen—
something breathing in the bones of prophecy.

New Jeru.
Not built by human hands,
Not bought with bloody gold.
A Kingdom seeded in silence,
sprouting through the cracks of fallen empires.

New Jeru.
Where the streets ain't paved with politics,
but with prayers and praises.
Where light runs through the stones like blood,
and every gate sings His Name.

I ain't chasing the American Dream.
I'm chasing the dream John saw.
The one where sorrow gets evicted,
where death throws up its hands and surrenders.

Where tears dry like morning dew
because the Son finally stands face to face with His sons.
Where the thrones are thrown down,
and the meek inherit what they were building in secret.

New Jeru.
The place my spirit remembers
even though my feet have never touched it.
The home my ancestors wept for,
and my blood aches to build.

I’m not waiting on rescue —
I’m marching in resurrection.
Cloaked in covenant, crowned in light,
riding faith into futures no empire can erase.

New Jeru.
Where my soul cashes in every prayer,
Where every scar turns to a crown,
Where the Lamb reigns, and no sword is needed.
Where I am not just free—
I am home.

New Jeru.
Coming down like thunder wrapped in silk.
Prepared like a bride, radiant like the risen sun.
Not a myth.
Not a maybe.
A promise set in stone before time itself.