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I spy an empty book

Waiting for a story to hold

A pane of glass

Waiting for a stone to be thrown

In the breaking

A new composition

So I will be torn

In an effort to change

Who’s to say where

A man’s fortune lies

Behind the pale stare

Of his hardened eyes

In his chest a rhythm

Beating powerful and true

You can’t put your hands

On the genuine measure of a man

I offer myself up

Knowing I am not enough

Somehow, through grace

I am redeemed,

All my transgressions forgiven.

Guilt still plagues my heart

It knows I deserve not

So I struggle each moment

Crippled with doubt