By Mark Bishop
I cry but for what reason?
I mourn but what treason has befallen this soul?
What condemnation do I now stand under that my joy and peace are rent asunder
There is none but only Christ who paid in full the greatest price
Yet I still find my sadness pressing
I still think my wounds need dressing
When a holy King was torn apart to save a lost and still ungrateful heart
How can I even start to describe this depravity pulling me down like gravity
When I think my life's a tragedy that He cares nothing for.
I am the chief of sinners nothing more but it's just this shamefulness He bore
and how I know His grace is sure
It's why He has to win this war,
because I never can.
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