Writings of a Sinner

For all sin and fall short of the glory of God

Month: February, 2014


There’s so much that it’s almost unbearable.

It can’t be held in two hands, let alone one beating heart.

It overflows.

It takes control.

Not even my icy hands can stop His warmth.

It is the reason that I live.

I have an abundance of love to give.



Ride my nerves like a wave

Shooting towards the rising sun

Clasp your fingers around my heart

Repair the damage that I’ve done

Slip into my unconscious mind

Reveal to me your glory won

Call me home and accept my love

Repair the damage that I’ve done.


LORD have mercy on me.

I am trembling with my own sickness.

I willingly drink in poison, eager to grasp the cup

while I walk around as if without disease.

You know the truth.

Breathe your life into my lungs once again.

Burn your fiery spirit into veins.

Build me into a new man with a servant heart.

LORD have mercy on me.

Watch (Possibly unfinished)

There’s not a hand on a watch that wouldn’t tell you

that all the life on your breath is steadily ticking away.

Hopefully that thought alone should compel you

to cherish every breath in the 18,000 each day.

But let’s not be paralyzed from the fear of time,

whether its already gone, or it has yet to come.

For it would be just as much of a crime

to silence all music for fear of the drum.





Open up the roof of this storm.

What would you see?

Would you see the steam rising off of my skin.

Rain drops that changed their mind

but it was too late to return unchanged.

Skin too hot for comfort.

Muscles taught as the string of a bow

with the arrow pointing inward.

Each of Your words rains on me a sweet cure to my self-made disease.

Hard-packed sin rising off of me like steam.

LORD I may avoid confrontation with Your storm

but I know with certainty that I will fall into you, broken.

Then you will stand me up, healed.

Picky Bastard

It’s not a matter of can or can’t.

My ability to charm somebody into liking me is irrelevant.

It’s a matter of motivation, voice, and not flinching.

Is she motivation for me to be a better man than I could ever hope to be?

Is her voice something that I’m going to crave to feel crashing against my ears like thunder

Is she going to flinch when I freely surround her with all the love I can manage?

That is the matter at hand.

That is why I am a picky bastard.


Unlock your heart.

Rejuvenate those weary eyes.

It might feel like you are a fly amongst dragons,

but you are a truly a dragon amongst flies.


Lies taste like candy,

and boy did I have a sweet tooth.

Not so much anymore.


They’re sweet on the tip of your tongue.

Satisfying with each bite.

Wrapped up in pretty little packages.


But we can’t live on candy.

Cavities move in and weaken the fabric of our character.

Doesn’t taste so good anymore.


I still have holes from the lies I’ve told.

I don’t think they’ll fill with time.

I’d much rather fill them with truth.