thankful

this little light of mine
i was gonna let it shine
but mired by a bog of clay
i found it hard to pray
let alone to say
where all of my strength lay

and with all flavor gone
i might as well be thrown

wasted bland ashamed

i was driven to despair

and heard the piercing cries

a life of hypocrisy

but then my savior's voice

whispered oer the noise

tis not your life that counts

but mine that paid the cost

my blood once spilled not lost

so precious is that cross

© labujamra