Sunday, January 3, 2016

Nor Height, Nor Depth

Is it too late? 
Running out of time while running to stand still,
I find You.
Comparison is overwhelming 
I cannot hide, arrested by pride.

Stumbling with the weight of self inflicted wounds,
Parched, unable to drink freely from
The Fount.

Reality hammers the truth of my place
Singularity in solitude
Reaching for the fellowship of Him
Through the vain attempts of acceptance

Shrink back and accept the whispers
It's too late
Rise again, for neither heights nor depths 


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