Broken v.1.0

B r  o ke    n .

Dedicated.


How I wish to stand up and praise you.

But guilt pulls down every inch of my soul

With those thick, sharp hooks

And the Devil stands in front  giving me his dark looks

Could I shout, could I Cry?

Would my wet eyes fall on the altar and make you turn

Your Gracious eyes?

Toward a  sinner, as degraded as I

A sweet sacrifice I wished to offer

Same old story

I’m just playing it over

But this time

I want to be liberated

Live life for you

If that’s what’s consecrated.

Yet the desolation just gives me a way.

Would two hands lifted up

Mean anything

to you?

Holy Father

You feel far away

Farther than I could come back home

What’s point in me shedding tears all the way

as I go farther away from you?

Would a swollen heart, red and heavy

Ever be made to feel like it should

Could I ever be fortunate to be the one

to be called back to your arms?

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