There is a madness born of fear
A path unteathered to reason’s core
Finding myself is not what I thought
And the darkness wins again.
I can despair because I know hope
More than if I did not
Yet in this storm so tossed about
I feel both hope and rot.
But how could I ever learn to trust
(Freely and on my own)
If I were not in frightening places
Let’s see how I have grown…
“What is the purpose of my life?”
Do I die mired in sin?
Do I make a difference?
The sun sets a cool and pleasant night.
Am I saved from it?
Or is that where I am thrown
To feel the breath of God?
What is my purpose?
In this dusty hot and empty place…
I am in a bar
There is a dog lying comfortable on the floor
They sell the finest whiskys
And my people are customers here.
Blues plays through speakers
And I am listening
To what the Lord would say.
Because in some places
It is easier to believe
That He loves me.