At the age you walked away from Him
I walked toward Him.
A blasphemer in my unsaved days,
Now in the Lord I delight
and give Him praise.
You threw the proverbial baby
out with It's bathwater.
From your cultic church
You were right to fly, little bird,
But should never have disowned God as His daughter.
You say it is just too intense
To reconcile belief with common sense.
Well, my beautiful, garulous bard,
I suspect you haven't been trying too hard.
"Lord, I'd like to think about you longer,
But I have to go."
Just thank that God above
For regulating your flow.
No comments:
Post a Comment