Love is the strings I hear that held You bound to the Cross
Falling down a cliff, but like Mary, I hung on Your every Word
Lost, seeking to find my path through life
I dive in, struggling through the battles I strive.
Do I have the strength to carry me through?
Or the nerve to testify that You’re good?
Falling, I held on
Blood is the flood that washed me from every stains of death
Blinded with tears, I used grace to wipe my eyes of earth
Discovery! The blood didn’t stain, it made free of pain
How do I explain the great worth of death and its gain?
Does this sound wise or it’s just in my own eyes?
That grace bought what was redeemed from the many lies
Falling to my knees, I stayed
Hung up on the cross and down to the grave
Purpose You made, was to make me no slave
Freed! The Word is indeed real and complete
Let me be! In Him, I’m beyond defeat
Spoken, full of light and power to deliver
A token, on which to trust as I believe
“Fallen”, the Word was my stay.
@imanikel 080421 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung
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