I am not my own

I am not my own. I hold not, live not.
I am dead, as far as the world can see.
Wistful for days of ignorance, I sought
The times past when living was so carefree,
Days when my life seemed less painful, I thought.
What drove me to this? Not dimming; but a sort
Of glorious light, to which I have naught
To compare. Dirt and flesh, all fallen short
Of what I was made to be. I abide
In the Fall. I lost before I arose:
I never knew how dark I was inside,
How frightened I could be of my shadows.
I am not my own. Set apart, I boast
In the fact that my sin has lost its grip.
Pressed on all sides…but not broken. So close.
Revel in weakness; Power made perfect
In my fractured self. Enveloped by Grace,
I strive onward… for I am not alone.
Thus I decrease, so that He may increase
In my life. You see… I am not my own.


- Hunter Chorey
12.3.01