fatherless,i do not know of this burden. breaking and molding and hurting and winding... wondering where the hole will cement
behind bars, violent reds staining floors, absent words looking for some connection - some admiration
missed dances, missed delight in white dresses and princesses seeking rescue only to find rescue a farce - used and left for another again.
what do i offer? able-bodied and sure innocent to this wound that festers and crookedly heals
fatherless, but Abba came. taking the place of those left healing the jagged scars and putting together the wounded piece by broken piece
fatherless, i do not know of this wound but Abba does and Abba steps in protecting and defending and Rescuing
empty made whole broken made complete
fatherless, what can I offer but Abba.
