Insight

This world, this world such beauty and pain

A pretense of freedom, yet what do we gain?

Popular opinion and fleeting fame -

Can’t you see this ball and chain?

This life, this life, not made to last

It passes by and is over so fast.

When all we have of life is past

What will hold and keep our souls fast?

This heart, this heart, no longer mine,

beats with the gift of love divine.

This love, it comes at the highest price:

A painful gift of sacrifice.

This world, this world, is not enough for me,

A tortuous cross, the only key.

So here I am on bended knee

For I’ll never forget what it means to be free.