Darkness does consume those who let it fester,
But in my waking tomb my God always does pester.
The mucked and mired soul with which I failed to live,
Was but a rotting hole, a shell with which I'd give
Nothing to another, not even time of day,
Ignore my loving brother and whittle time away.
My life was truly lowly and so would have remained
If not for the One Holy who rid my heart of pain.
The desperation cast aside,
My heart was fully opened!
The weight on me became so light,
He swiftly removed the burden.
But what did I owe him for such a deed?
I surely couldn't pay it.
He died for me on Calvary
And now I can't contain it.
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