If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary, then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared
Am I lost or just less found
On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way
Is this a soul that stirs in me
Is it breaking free, wanting to come alive
Because my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become
Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
And I will sigh, and with all creation groan, as I wait for hope to come for me
For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath
So we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live
I was made to love, I was made to know You
Hope is coming for me
Hope, He is coming
Sunday, February 15, 2009
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