He stands alone, because all he sees is pain.
He falls to his knees, defeated, surrounded by the rain.

He wanders aimlessly, unsure of who he is. Fighting to get by.
So many answers to a single question. "God.. Who am I?"

"You are a vessel for my love", the truth that rings loud and clear.
"Me? Why? Couldn't you find someone better? Someone without fear?"

He doesn't feel strong enough. Not ready for what's to come.
Too impure to save. Too lost and confused to truly love.

And maybe he is. Maybe he's broken, confused, lost, and dark.
But His eyes still fall upon him, running. No matter how far.

So I answered the call. Completely unable to escape.
And I'm scared every day. Deathly afraid that I'll fail.

We live like we're broken, unworthy, and lost. And, well. Maybe we are.
But isn't it beautiful, the way we break our hearts? The way we fall apart?