What's happening to me?
I'm changing, God.
My days, they feel...
Free?
...
Play forts,
Wood worn and faded.
Ivy vines,
Green and elevated.
Safe haven.
Stairs to heaven?
Bread unleavened.
Mind caved in?
Check marks on my mirror:
I'm Your ever nearer,
Lover and fearer,
Doer and hearer.
Who could have guessed,
That me of all people,
Would pick up their mess,
And carry Your steeple?
I want to love You.
I want to fear You.
Just open my heart, God,
And let me near You.
We don't deserve this.
Yet we ask and receive.
Take off our masks,
Satan's tool of deceit.
Now put on your bracelet,
My promise to you.
Eight letters.
My promise to You.
