My words are few, my tongue tangled in the thorns of my inhibitions
my vision is blurred, His glory blinds me, through his eyes I see
mind stuck, I am reaching for the helm of His garment
my life at it’s end, I rip my heart out and take His
He wears a crown of thorns, every drop of blood my salvation
Hush, He speaks.
His proclamation of love renewed with every fresh breath
His eyes alight fixed on me
My father: his grace is remarkable, his strength impenetrable, his love unending
Never met any more deserving all of me. I pale in comparison because there’s none.
He has proclaimed himself my lifeline, I fear nothing
He’s living proof of all that is perfect
No greater promise than to see him one day and embrace all of that heaven forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem