VISCERA

Ghost Story

Wake, you’re haunting me again. There you stand every time, so alive it’s scaring me to death.

Wave, you’re beckoning me in to the places between all the dreams and nightmares in my head.

Seeds will never bloom till they die, 

wicks don’t shine until they’re on fire

and every newborn leaves a scar to remind.

If it costs me nothing is it worth anything?

I hear you calling me but G-d I am scared, still if you lead me I will follow you there

Grace, we talk as though it’s free but who can measure the cost of your son, or put a price upon your grief?

So it’s a gift but it’s not cheap.

Seeds don’t ever bloom ’til they die, 

wicks don’t shine until they’re on fire

and every newborn leaves a scar to remind.

If it costs me nothing is it worth anything?

And if glory always follows the cross then G-d so help me I will carry it on.

The doubts still whisper inside my gut, “count the cost”, but I added it up and it keeps haunting me. Because I’ve dreamt the faces of hopeless men. I’ve seen the truth of what’s at risk and I cannot stop thinking of the sounds in hell. So let them grow louder and louder till I don’t fear anything else. Keep haunting me.

Holy Ghost, keep haunting.

If it costs me nothing is it worth anything?

I hear you calling me but G-d I am scared, still if you lead me I will follow you there

If it takes everything, and I’m left with nothing, I know your glory always follows the cross then G-d so help me I will carry it on.

Holy Ghost, keep haunting me.

Memoir

I was hopeless, chained to vice after vice and I defied you until I prayed you would just let me die. I was finished and slept in grave after grave and waited buried, but the end I deserved never came.

The wrath that I was owed poured on your blameless son, for every song I’ve sung still it seems senseless.

The righteousness He owned, free to us wicked ones. I fit it in my lungs but it leaves me breathless.

You were fearless, and took my shame upon shame and as I yielded you were crushed by the weight.

But It was finished when by grace upon grace hell was silenced as you stepped out from your grave.

The wrath that I was owed poured on your blameless son, for every song I’ve sung still it seems senseless.

The righteousness He owned, free to us wicked ones. I fit it in my lungs but it leaves me breathless.

Since the first time you spoke it, I’ve been winded and gasping for air. I can barely repeat it. I believe but I don’t understand how for all of the violence and rebellion that heaves in my chest, You could call me forgiven, and restore every last wasted breath.

Hell go on and rage, whatever you may say my G-d, He speaks for me and I’ll not be ashamed.

Hell go on and rage, you can’t change a thing. My G-d, You speak for me so I’ll not be ashamed.

Wives’ Tale

Last week you got lost in the guest room and for a couple hours you didn’t know my name. Today I’m lying for the tenth time saying “he can’t stop by” when he’s been dead for ages, but you forgot.

Each time when the tide inside your mind lifts, it sets adrift the moments and people you held dear. Every loss, every lapse another death. Curse and mourn, a dozen funerals a day here.

Honey you need some rest, trust me whatever’s next, just don’t surrender yet. If all our promises escape you in the night, don’t fret, I’ll hold up both our ends.

Holding your hand while you’re losing your head and the only thing worse than the things you forget is the constant reminder that I could be next.

If man is nothing but a pile of sand with just a little bit of consciousness and we can’t even trust our memories how can we have faith in anything?

But the faith that I lost in myself found a way to believe someone else. I make no promises but I’ve got some prayers left. Whatever happens I won’t live in fear of the end.

I’m down on my knees as you’re falling apart and trusting the one who can go where you are. He’ll take your hand and lead you from the dark. 

Darling if we forget, He can hold both our ends.

Open Letter

What kind of G-d makes a world like this, lost in the dark?

How’s it good news that we’re all born damned right from the start?

I tried escaping, I quit believing, and left Him behind. Freed from His judgement who could condemn us or cast us aside? But in that light I stood in the silence and found that the darkness was growing inside.

What kind of father offers up his son for his enemies?

How is it right that He just forgives such awful things?

I tried explaining because I still want to live in a world full of grace. But who gets acquitted when all men are felons and victims the same? I just can’t say how mercy and justice can still be consistent and both have their way.

Sometimes the truth feels more like a person and maybe I’d love You if we ever met.

G-d if you hear me, I’m giving up now because I’m out of answers and I’ve got nothing else.

If You come to visit I’d sit and listen. I won’t disagree, You can speak for Yourself.

Just speak to me!

[TAG]

Reign here Good King and I’ll not be afraid.

Speak Living Word, I have nothing to say.

Come Comforter, lay your hand on my head.

Stay with me Father and I’ll be content.