Thickening ice across a mountain made of fire,
Staring out on the shore over an ocean of starless nights.
Wondering about the plight of those I’d rather just forget,
In favor of the sword I clench tight in my fist.
Oh God, deception calls me
To trudge through the waters of my despair and build a home for all my secrets there.
Redemption yells from the shore, begging me to run back,
To be made whole in the presence of the one who can free me.
But a circle always starts from where it ends.
Oh but hope is like a ship at sea and an overcast sky,
and I can barely see it’s sails unfurling, but I know it has not left just like I know it’s not standing dry,
Like I know God has not left us wanting, left us to die.
And that ghost is ever haunting in the depths of my soul.
If suffering proves me that I can feel at all,
Set me on fire and watch me fall to the ground,
Rolling around and around and putting out all that makes me human.
Believe me, I don’t want this emptiness,
So take it from me, set me free.
Freedom looks like arms stretched across splintered boards,
Nail protruding from hands that held children and healed the sick,
Thorns pressing inward and bleeding out.
A hole in the side that my fingers will just barely fit into.
Freedom purchased for a wretch like me.
And fear still ebbs in the darkest parts of me,
Like I know God has not left us wanting,
But that ghost is ever haunting,
And sometimes I slip back into the chains that bind me to myself.
But the King is calling,
“You are free.”