Comming in My Shirt
I never meant to make an impression,My eyes, they hurt behind a mask.
My shadow can speak for me in the absence of mirrors;
The dark I'll never choose, they block my senses.
There's no contentment I know,
And happiness, that's a search for anyone.
A barter for sacrifice, yet not what I pretend to be
Nor play to become.
Just me comming in my shirt.
Thank for Glory should it come in the end,
Though I won't long for it.
Not 'til it is embraced,
By my Creator who saw me here unmasked
So I work to come near Him,
Unafraid.
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