“I was a hired gun sent from across the land. Never knew what I thought, but I knew what I won. Though I was made to be free!”
With a fist in the sky where the heavens were glass: “My heart used to know, but now I just bury the past. If I stand in the past’s grave, and if one more soul dies and if one more is saved, does it make any difference? Did God make the universe and just walk away?!” It was a desert, a buried desert in his heart. Doubt was the bullet, and he just kept his mouth shut. Love was the gun, and grace was the trigger! We were all lost, now what does it mean to be found?
Is something there behind the clouds? Does it hold my bones? Are You even caring or just distant on some throne? (At this point, running away starts…)