Stubble In The Field

Do I dare to dream again?
dream in sin like the hopeless lot
Cut off soldiers in the field
with empty magazines.
Do I need a helping hand
Or the crack of speeding whips
Do I need something I’d find,
Find outside

I get lost within my mind
Fearing everything that’s real
Dying faster locked inside
Lost and lost and lost…

The Spirit came
and I kneeled down
and so I go to pray
take this broken sinner Lord
and scoop the dross away.


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