So sacred, so precious,
I spill these vile messes,
putird and toxic waste,
all over Your Holy place.
You simply wipe all clean,
and then polish me with dreams,
You turn my complaints, into praises I sing.
In Your chamber I lay in sorrow,
I hope You come back tomorrow,
You left in a hurry, left Your example to follow,
You left Your Spirit for me, but I am still so hollow,
Your Spirit filled my soul, but I am bent,
only Your touch God can straighten me again.
I love You
MYSELF

This post was last modified on September 12, 2005 - learn more.

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