If any good came from loving true
but falling short
its in this verse honouring You
surrendered, taught
reaching up beyond my sighs
where truth is chiselled into sense
Can darkened shutters recompense?
Time and purse no longer vie
so uncontended now I’ve died
to selfish pride and suffered lies
alone
Any harm that came from not loving true
the way I ought
now harmonises and reflects You
exquisite, sought
shining in transforming lies
from darkness to experience
Should suffering bring forth penitence?
Crime and worse no longer imply
a discontented death inside
The Lamb arose, It’s finished He cries
Atone
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