Every day she goes through the same thing. Every night she runs the same path. Every second her life is on the line. As she runs the grass waves through her toes,soft like a feather. The night air draws her off the path she need be on.
Every step she takes means just another weary breath. Every second she might fall. Do we not see lives are on the line? Do we not see how many burdens we could take on just to give others rest?
Every temptation offers her something better then the other. Every time she falls she cries out. It seems not one stops to lift her up. It seems not one is in her same place.
The more we walk by, The more we don't notice, The more she burns.
It feels she steps no where. It feels she is withering away. Like ash blowing in the wind.
She cries herself to sleep hoping peace will come in her dreams. She awakes finding that once again everything was taken.
She just wants trust. She just yearns to know there is hope. She just craves for love.
Ever day she gives herself away. Every night she spends herself on things not thought of. Every second her life is on the line.
As she cries she prays. As she burns she prays. As she withers into nothing she prays.
We just see a girl mumbling. We take her for granted. We take her as an example of what not to become.
On this dreadful path she walks she does not think of the next second to come or the next day. She does not think of what might happen if she were to stop walking. Instead she thinks on things that will bring up a good future.
We see just another person looking for their place in this world.
When she prays she prays for us. When she prays she does not pray to be noticed but for us to notice.
Every day she goes through the same thing. Every night she runs the same path. Every second her life is on the line. As she runs the grass waves through her toes, soft like a feather.
Do we not see lives on the line? Do we not see how many burdens we could take on just to give others rest?
She burns for us to live. She cries for us to live. She prays for us to live.
Everyday she gives up something important for us to have something important. Every Night she runs the same path to life. Every second she knows that heaven is at the end of her line.
Not knowing when or where she knows it's out there somewhere. She is a weary traveler searching for hope where hope is found.
At the foot of the cross may she only find rest.
Every step she takes means just another weary breath. Every second she might fall. Do we not see lives are on the line? Do we not see how many burdens we could take on just to give others rest?
Every temptation offers her something better then the other. Every time she falls she cries out. It seems not one stops to lift her up. It seems not one is in her same place.
The more we walk by, The more we don't notice, The more she burns.
It feels she steps no where. It feels she is withering away. Like ash blowing in the wind.
She cries herself to sleep hoping peace will come in her dreams. She awakes finding that once again everything was taken.
She just wants trust. She just yearns to know there is hope. She just craves for love.
Ever day she gives herself away. Every night she spends herself on things not thought of. Every second her life is on the line.
As she cries she prays. As she burns she prays. As she withers into nothing she prays.
We just see a girl mumbling. We take her for granted. We take her as an example of what not to become.
On this dreadful path she walks she does not think of the next second to come or the next day. She does not think of what might happen if she were to stop walking. Instead she thinks on things that will bring up a good future.
We see just another person looking for their place in this world.
When she prays she prays for us. When she prays she does not pray to be noticed but for us to notice.
Every day she goes through the same thing. Every night she runs the same path. Every second her life is on the line. As she runs the grass waves through her toes, soft like a feather.
Do we not see lives on the line? Do we not see how many burdens we could take on just to give others rest?
She burns for us to live. She cries for us to live. She prays for us to live.
Everyday she gives up something important for us to have something important. Every Night she runs the same path to life. Every second she knows that heaven is at the end of her line.
Not knowing when or where she knows it's out there somewhere. She is a weary traveler searching for hope where hope is found.
At the foot of the cross may she only find rest.
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