Anguish of Grace

I am the broken one,
The shattered one,
The villain,
The bastard.

I am the guilty one,
The weak one,
The small one,
The failure.

I am in pieces
I am in pain
Confusion is my morning
Despair is my night.

It makes sense to call you Lord
My fractured and poisoned view of reality
Does not struggle with this,
But to call you father…

“…lest anyone should boast.”


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