If truth should really be told,
We find that we all fall short.
And as we digress, we collect stow aways;
tokens of lies that lodge in the shell of our lives.
Our bodies tell us what our minds repress.
Immersed in death,
And all because we stopped asking the right questions...
I fell. I fall. I qualify because of....
And grace?
She walks with us,
In every soiled step we take.
We are misled by lies that promise passion.
But I have never felt the kiss...
Have you?
Only the sting and staleness of a cold cold death.
If truth be told,
There is no guarantee that says we stop falling.
But...the landing place is different.
Safer.
We fell...
Into His arms.
And after that,
We aren't so easily confused.
We no longer accept destruction for beauty.
And as we go right on falling,
Grace goes right on catching!