Nothing Left to Say

the morning rises,

dark and cold,

time without sound,

night without day,

forty years and twenty million

empty words later,

beautiful dreams fade,

broken and dead,

new visions and epiphanies

fill the void,

feeble and weak;

nothing left to say;

all the self-absorbed pity,

all the weakness and fear,

all the lost moments,

all the wasted time,

this cacophony of

endless excuses,

proud and vain within

their self-made universe,

without soul or purpose,

without depth or emphasis,

just one more day,

one more touch,

one more breath;

away;

rules have no meaning here,

fantasies move back and forth,

flying like the wind,

abandoned with the morning trash;

no one knows the cost,

no one knows the price;

before Your throne do I fall,

into Your hands do I place my life,

upon Your mercy and grace

lies my only hope;

I am Yours,

help me do Your

glorious will.

.

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