Are you comfortable with the weight of sin?
Are you satisfied when you cast your eyes
Upon the filthy rags that adorn your
Flesh and bones?
There’s is a distinct stench to sin
Like the burning of a rotten beast,
Like the scorching of souls
Burning on the floor of despair..
I carried the weight of sin.
I was robbed of my heritage,
And my inheritance.
My most-trusted friend abandoned me
When I needed her the most.
There is sin born of our own flesh.
There is the sin of a trusted friend.
There is a savior that sits upon
The highest throne, reaching out his hand
To welcome me home.