because I started half way there.
I would die for each and every one
before the fire could singe their hair.
So I died, every day,
with every spark into the darkness,
and I fell with every heart
that was swallowed into the abyss.
But yet it was a loving God
who put before me life and death.
He walked among the deep graves
and pulled me up and to his breast.
For it was He who fell and fell in love.
It was He who died for the lost,
It was He who braved the fires and pits
to spare me from knowing each cost.
The broken heart that was failing me
was the one turned to wax in His chest,
the same one that began to beat again,
igniting life in those laid to rest.
So I walk the graveyards at His side,
as the living, lit up among the dead,
and I reach down the hand that reached for me
and raise up sleeping children from their beds.
