...In the Chapel

The blood pours out of your every wound,
and flows over each one of mine.
The healing balm of Gilead
provided before time.

Before the night and day began;
Before the firmament
You suffered for the joy we share.
You cried out in lament.


The fire burns in your beautiful eyes,
and calls me to repent.
Shall I forsake everything else,
and serve You till I'm spent?

But what else for reward is there?
What else but your song?
If I retain all I have, without You,
then all I have is gone.


Oh . . .

How much do you love me?

Oh . . .

What do you think of me?