thank you tenth avenue north, for bringing me to the lord,
& never failing to bring me back to the lord,
even when i get tired of having a savior--
when the act of salvation itself gets thwarted into a loathsome anchor by ungodly thoughts
weighing my being to the seabed-- where i'd rather rot in deliberate blindness
where i'd rather darkness swallowed me whole so those corrupted lungs could morph into jellyfishes
to enjoy frolicking in the stench of the decomposing seabed
for darkness is capable of casting spells instead of crowns
--when bewitched,
you'll willingly let it drag you
then
d
r
o
w
n
you
we're all the same, all desperate for a change
we're all the same, we need You lord
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