something in You breaks something in me
( the something in me that is screaming )
the Me that's in charge, the Me that knows best
the Me that forever keeps planning
something in You rips something from me
( pierced through and bloody and dying )
I fall down and fountain this rupture
and Your wounding bleeds out my dreams
but something in me realizes it's You
( perhaps just because You do tell me )
so broken and weary, lost and undone
I yield. I die at Your hand.
Your hand, which raises the dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment