Thursday, April 07, 2016
On the prowl with the intent to destroy,
he takes my confidence; oh, how he robs me of my joy.
Fully aware of how to bring me down,
a pat on the back as he offers me a shimmering crown.
It takes me back to a church pew- left side, second row,
where I heard, "don't ever give him a foothold..."
I should've known all along that it was fool's gold.
I try to escape, but it all becomes so ordinary-
settling for apathy, instead of a life extraordinary.
Balancing burdens that I was never meant to carry,
while that awful crown weighs me down.
I was never meant to wear it.
I thought I heard a voice call out to me,
but I didn't give it too much merit.
I've listened to so many others lately.
Prone to wander, I feel the weight of it greatly.
I try to lose that crown and get away,
but darkness surrounds at the end of another day.
Would I recognize your call as I look for just a glimmer of light?
Would I stumble and fall if I walk by faith and not by sight?
I can see it now.
There's a shadow breaking in slowly.
There's a hope in the sunrise.
New mercies defeat the lies
with a distinct call that says,
"You. Are. Mine."
He reaches down to remove that awful crown,
and now it's no longer dim.
He lifts my head and directs my sight so that I can look to Him.