In this—I stumble.

Through this—I wander.

Across this—I fall.


A clouded conscience,

Bound to blindness,

Dense with doubt,

And misty mistakes,

With lowly lies,

Thick of trespasses,

Heaving hefty hatred.


You pierce the grey,

Clear as day,

My eyes bear the image,

You pierced for me?

O’ Jesus you pierce my heart!