To Him who makes me whole

It's a thousand yard stare but this pretence gets me nowhere

I'm clutching at straws in a duel that needs a gun to draw
Any fool can see I'm scared, frightened stiff and unprepared
Wishing to hold your hand even loose but held back by lies as a noose
Taking the life out of every breath, whispering "the escape is death"

But theirs is not the only voice I hear, another wishes to draw near
Yours follows me wherever I roam, always calling me to come home
With power to break the shackles that bind, even those deep in the mind
You pursue with all that Your are, nowhere I go will ever to be too far

With Your words You restore, by Your might I can endure
When all the world turns its back and readies itself to attack
I call on the One who can save those bound for the grave
He takes the pieces of my broken soul and lovingly remakes me whole

By Pete Scopes