The Clock Struck Mercy

Hollow place, crawlspace, where no emotion returns alive, Broken or calloused, which shall it be, if I had the choice to make And what is darkness to me or to them, as I attempt to find the solace and sun The cold has taken it's inevitable toll on the heart and spirit, and where will one turn when the cards are laid, will we reshuffle the deck? No, the deck is laid, but maybe a reshuffle is in the future ahead, And maybe a life depends on reshuffle; no rebuttle, all mistakes and lies one side, Names in a book, burned page by page, waiting for the bottom to drop, Pray to see light, or must I crawl to it? My Lord has not forsaken me, But it is me who made the run towards false ecstacy, trampled goodness and mercy by the wayside. There must be reason... There must be change... There must be repentance. Bow my head to the winds, and make amends to the one who reigns on high, Trust in You, I seek and find; the failure is mine, but I yean for the tunnel's ending light, I race unto careless sorrow and hopeful redemption... Find the hope and strength to rise again.... Praise God.