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