The Bridge
A golden gate at eve
My life thought I to cleave
To fall just like a leaf
I crossed the bridge halfway
A prison spied that day
Condemned myself to stay
My heart could not but leave
In shame to unforgive
For him I did not grieve
The time I had begun
For years I tried to run
Denied I was his son
But then I made a call
And took a chance so small
Perhaps to breach a wall
With tears I saw his face
For there he was always
While blind I found his grace
With love he took my scourge
My dying faith he urged
Gave hope before the dirge
Dire thought I unconcieve
To tell why I now live
The truth he was the bridge
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