In the shrouded shadows, my soul sore-bound,
I cower, eyes shut against fear's power.
His Voice beckons to my heart this hour,
Sweet to these eyes His pure Light abounds.
Chains crack, severed by Savior's blood outpoured,
The crimson tide purging me from all sin.
In awe before Him, praise wells from within;
Love for the Lover, stronger than the sword.
With unveiled heart and relentless pursuit,
The Lover draws near, offering His hand
Nail-Scarred, eyes calling, making no demands.
His heart cuts through my walls down to the root.
What can I say but to obey His Word
That is the Truth? His Love can sound the depths
Of time and still remain as plains windswept.
Not needing me, He clears the path of burs.
© Candi Cartwright
This poem is personal, about Christ saving me and how he pursues me. When writing this, I prayed often, pleading with God to help me see this through His eyes. A lot of this imagery it taken from articles I've read, The Holy Bible and hymns. Without Him, I am nothing.