The Garden
My heart is like a garden.
For in here there is life,
And the sweet smell of pardon.
That sets me free from strife.
The Lord knoweth the days of the upright:
and their inheritance shall be forever.
A candle that gives light,
Buring in the heart like a fire.
Claiming the sweet drops of rain
Showers of blessing
In, the middle of my pain
All my wandering ways addressing.
And the sweet smell of pardon
I have inherited in a garden.
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