The greatest muse I will ever know,  present in every word that I ever wrote.

No other love I can ever aquire, no other thing could pull me from the mire.

I have been lost through years of mediocrity, filled with nothing but animosity.

I sought inspiration in anything that would offer, though I gained nothing… what did it all profer?

I have fallen in multitudes, I have fallen in droves, yet still you seek me out to lay in your groves.

I graze in your green fields where I prosper in peace, somehow out of the wolve’s mouth I see myself released.

Even still, I run from your fields, fleeing from my fealty, expecting better quicker yields.

I seek things in my time and lack trust in your perfection, when I do not receive an immediate answer I pick my own direction.

I think myself wise enough to choose my own path, I find failure ad nauseam, and I am deserving of your wrath.

Yet instead I find mercy, salvation in the blood; by great sacrifice I am yours, when I had thought the gate shut.

By all rights I should be exiled from your pastures, yet even as I run you chase after all the faster.

No escape from this love, and so there is a desperation to write, to glorify God, and to bring the nations to light.

So use me where you have me, let the big picture be clear, whatever your will I certainly shall adhere.

I will go, I will stay, I will listen, and I will speak; whatever you ask, I now know it is only you that I was made to seek.