between the cracks of creative glory there is a stale, dead hue.
its down inside those ugly colors that the prince whispers to you.
our shoddy minds and filmy eyes make our bodies crave.
following the path of all before us, we cave, we cave, we cave.
we strive inside the murky depths to fill our souls with gladness,
everything we swig and choke on ends in dull, dark sadness.
our voices croak for more or less, and the boney hand provides.
in the midst of all our ailments and our phony, hollow pride
a white hot Spirit pierces through us, makes us weak, and burns our eyes.
in our weakness, a new strength; in our throats, emboldened cries.
with new minds and renewed eyes we see the prince for all his lies.
our new legs walk out of the cave; the beauty of the light, our prize.
we work to close the cracks in glory with the song we sing
of the blood, the love, the call, the victory, of Jesus Christ the King.
because i essentially rewrote a psalm for my first post of #7in7 i felt like i had more in me. so here is another.