My Beloved is coming soon
He'll come in strength and beauty
But I am too far from prepared
Never performed my duty

I've breached His trust
The only One who trusted me
I won't beg for Holy pardon
I saw some things I shouldn't see

It's too prideful to push away
The extended arms of mercy
I shouldn't have the guts to say
He shouldn't have believed in me

A soul that craves the pungent rot
A body ensnared in the gutter
A will that wills not what is right
And a mind that knows no better

He'll be here soon, the rule setter
To judge, to thresh, the weed cutter
Am I the wheat, am I the tare?
Will I extol or will I flare?

How pathetic does it sound
Knowing not my own calling
I just wish I didn't dread
My favorer's homecoming.







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