What I’ve heard from the mouths of the men upon which the spirit was laid
Are words once thought spoken only where sins are finally paid
They read with fire gleaned from where they thought the book was stored
But the bush that burned became only ashes that were soon ignored
Will his truth find faith inside the blind?

What I’ve felt while a boy suffered before the eyes by which he was made
Was the silent burning reminder by the light that made me afraid
As leaves fell upon themselves one will live by the point of a sword
And one would live by the winds risen from the womb of the Lord
Will his truth witness what was left behind?

What I’ve said only opened the skin of a woman that bled upon my blade
And as I watched the shroud softly cried waiting while she prayed
It was the lost chapter of a sequel that could only play the same sad chord
But as pages vanished he remembered repentance was its own reward
Will his truth wash away the doubt from my mind?