The wound was wet
Your skin was salt
You felt at fault just under fleeing threat
The night we met
I've not left yet
Caught in this field where I can't forget

You begged a kiss
I tore away
Circling prey, hear my vulture hiss
The claws I miss
Your beak's sharp bliss
Feed on rusted pain, the end of this

The death of me
The time I haunt
My flesh torn gaunt, I won't fly towards free
Keep pecking debris
The sickness in me
I trace it back, to that night's last plea

stone and muscle
a creed and silence

work and rest
a helping hand

sisters and brothers
fathers and mothers

a family unison
love made manifest

a muffled song came through the walls
the walls of my shame
clearer now its sweet refrain,
'don't you know you are forgiven'

who can plumb the depths of the heart?
make sense of suffering?  and more
the suffering inflicted by another's hand?

freedom is granted
a fight won for you

now belonging to the fighter-
pointing to freedom

being the clay I dare not ask the potter
what are you making, or complain about my lot
as if I deserved so much better.

Isaiah saw the LORD on high
with seraphs 'round Him praising
and knew that he must surely die
but for God's altar brazen

If not for Jesus Christ the Lamb
we all would face hell's woe
but by His grace alone I am
made holy head to toe

So now my life is not my own
but purchased by the King
to make His gospel message known
and His glory forever sing!

Praise to Him
For delivering me from what was
And all that could have been
His word & wisdom keep us safe
How wonderful and beautiful are all of His ways