When words drip from a broken vessel they often bring sour taste.
If I am His and He is mine, then why do I act so alone?
When listening to lies, the only way to be free is to hear Truth.
In the midst of my wanderings, I hear the whispers of the I AM.
If I could just express all that is in my chest, I'd be free.
So You call us to run, to let loose the things tight wound.
For in the moment of expression, we find the lies.
Then You can speak truth, BE Truth, and we can know.
Let us find You, Potter and form our clay anew.
Making this broken, white wash pot a pitcher of hope.
So we wait, You will not leave us tarrying for long.
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