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.
