placed in our hands

words that bleed

when our pens are our hearts

placed in our hands

when we feel like 

caged birds

trapped inside our minds

battling the voices

of self doubt 

and we're dying to 

have just one 

opportunity 

to show the ones we love

that our intentions are pure

and though we feel weak

at the realization 

of this worlds 

cruelty 

and the reality

of life,

we are still the artists,

the musicians

the poets

the ones daring not 

to be indifferent

standing with shaking

hands 

facing the darkness

in others, 

in this world;

in us.

we are the ones 

who fought bravely

creating

beauty in the midst

of chaos

though we were young

and some may say we

are reckless to love

so fiercely. 

but who are we?

when our 

hearts are barely

even beating

now.

exhausted with the 

weight of 

forgiving those

who've hurt us,

and still believing

that there is a 

god out there 

who loves us enough

to stand with us 

in our trials

and in our fight 

against sin 

and in our pain,

in our confusion

in our desperate need

for honesty.

and we know that 

although our

hearts may bleed

and we are indeed proven

to be weak,

there is power

in the everlasting

promise 

that Jehovah's grace

is sufficient.

even for us.