to measure who we are and how much we're worth.
When heaven meets the earth, we'll have no use for mirrors
to tell us who to be and where we fit
in this awkward point of view.
We'll pray for heaven's floor to break,
Pour the brightest white on blackest space,
come bleeding gloriously through
the clouds and the blue.
Forcing one place from two,
Killing formulaic views,
Only love proves to be the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment