I know his voice, I know his game
darkness- hatred- hurt and shame.
Death wings reaching, snaking, flapping
muting light - stealing - laughing.
In deaths grip he holds me, taunts me, binds me
in darkness he stalks me, deceives me and blinds me.
I am but a smoldering wick burning out
dry, brittle, broken - no voice, no hope
Alone in darkness, deep with dread
abandoned, forgotten, left for dead.
Through cracks in the façade of diaphanous wings
I hear His voice, faintly. I hear as He sings.
He sings my name, He sings my sorrows
His voice brings hope, offers bright tomorrows.
From so far away I see a faint light
transfixed, I watch as it grows glorious and bright.
Pursued by a God relentless in love
I reach to grasp hold of His hand from above.
He sought me, He found me, He wrapped me in light
He healed me, He dressed me with wings that took flight.
No longer lost - I now have a place
I know His voice - His name is Grace.
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