find me here speak to me i want to feel you i need to hear you you are the light that
"Yes, Master, Yes, Master"
Sunday School serves a purpose. A very pointed purpose.
How does your back break, creating those castles in the sand? Is it fulfilling? Does the harsh sky ever rain blessings on you as the waves of destruction tear apart the scattered remnants of your reckoning?
I laugh, and then sigh, for even I have fallen prey. Let the chains slip with a loud clank and with freed hands build upon the rock of infinity.
you calm the storms and you give me rest you hold me in your hands you won't let