Have you messed up? Are you lost? Are you weighing your assets against the cost?
You’re the fawn, the pawn, you’re the prey in the woods. The bigger the rack, the bigger the prize. You’re the target of the wolf in disguise. Not for your heartbeat, but for your life. Not for your coat, but for your eyes.
A predator waits to catch you off guard. He waits where you eat. He waits where it’s hard. He wears you down so you’re an easy kill. You, on your own, are no match for his skill.
He dangles the carrot for your wily ways. You’ve got it in you to add to his strays.
What hope do you have with such a cunning oppose? None by yourself and that fuels my prose. Maybe your lesson is the purpose of your fall. The learning’s the point of this life after all.
This would be useless if there wasn’t a catch. That being, maybe, a safety hatch.
There is a hunter and He’s in the woods. A skilled marksman with camouflaged goods. He’s in the bush, biding His time. He is the goal of this impossible climb.
He’s there when you fall, to show you His face. Because we need death before we need grace.
If you thought you were better, then the road’s a bit rough. But nobody promised this wouldn’t be tough.
He wins when He takes the worst of your shame, transforming your life. Presenting your new name.
Take the Love you’ve learned and head for the woods. The cunning Master has bequeathed the goods. Help find the fallen and bestow His name. What you’ve been given, you give the same.
To you who’ve been given the grace of our Master, you are required to aid in disaster. The ones who are scarred, more than the others, are there to give strength to their fallen brothers.
And when they find life after wounds of mourning death heal, they surrender to the same deal. Sweetly broken made tough, the beauty moreover. An army of warriors, the love cycle turns over.