The Weight of Sin
The hardest thing to accept right now is that there stands within me a deep crevice, seperating will from Truth. Admiting even this much entails a complete reformluation of what means 'to be'.
Existence places one outside of being.
Existence - all I know.
Being - all I strive for.
When destiny manifests this insight on perceptual horizons, nothing short of dispair convenes.
Can I...
embrace death so that i might rise?
empty heart so that i might be filled?
This world is all that I've ever known. Is it all that there ever is to know? The question beckons me to the cross, yet I fear of becoming an enigma to the world.
The burden of Truth is much heavier than the weight of sin.
I fear the pain of bearing both...
and wait in silence for the gift.
I long in tears for the embrace of my Beloved.
Existence places one outside of being.
Existence - all I know.
Being - all I strive for.
When destiny manifests this insight on perceptual horizons, nothing short of dispair convenes.
Can I...
embrace death so that i might rise?
empty heart so that i might be filled?
This world is all that I've ever known. Is it all that there ever is to know? The question beckons me to the cross, yet I fear of becoming an enigma to the world.
The burden of Truth is much heavier than the weight of sin.
I fear the pain of bearing both...
and wait in silence for the gift.
I long in tears for the embrace of my Beloved.