"Thy Kingdom Come"
Six days now have slowly passed, but on this Sabbath day I rest.
Created in His image? All that I can see is dark
My mind is slowly slipping and my body drenched in sweat.
My blood coagulates inside my hollow heart
Yet His flowed like a scarlet river from just above His brow
My home and throne are crumbling
While His kingdom and His throne forever reign
I feel as though I’ve been crowned King Nothing
But He wore a crown of thorns for the good of everything
He was crucified for all the wrong that I have done
And although He died for me, why then is it so hard for me to live for Him?
In spite of how bad I’m broken, His blood has made me whole
He laid His life down and rose again that I may live beyond my sins
So I ask you now– “were we created in His image, or have we become the image that He had suffered for?”
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