I know the person that I am,
A creature formed of fallen grace,
With blood stained on my wrists and hands,
And shame tattooed across my face.
I know my heart, twisted and dark,
Like smoke, writhing up from the ash
Of all the bridges I’ve burnt down
And subsequently cursed for trash.
I know, far better than you could,
The depths to which my soul can sink,
The miry clay of selfishness
I daily stoop myself to drink.
I’ve been surprised at the demise
Of all the faith I swore to keep.
I’ve wrapped myself in golden cloths
Of comfort, and fallen asleep.
But there is strength set in my bones
That surges when you call my name,
And oil poured into my blood
God reaches down to set aflame.
I was designed with stars in mind,
To light my eyes and spark my soul,
To be a beacon to the world
Upon this ruined path we stroll.
There is a power to my heart,
Despite the splintered past you see.
I know the person that I am.
But it is not who I will be.
– s. Clark
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