eph5-8_orig

A single torn page is all that remains,

&  I don’t mean to complain because it’s got me this far,

glitter dust, copper rusted star and chords of guitar,

The only page I kept was the page that spoke of redemption,

Little did I realize a cage awaited me in the other direction,

And I’m sorry Grandma but I’m not,

Your map, your key, became my lock,

But I know not all is lost,

Nothing can undo grace, that which was gained via cross

 

Image: https://www.job2ten.org/morning_minute/12

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