Wild Horses.

I know I've dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die
Cause wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses we'll ride them someday
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses we'll ride them someday 

And All I Want Is To Be Home.

insipidrhymes:

Growing apathetic to everything.
Hope it’s just a passing phase.
It’s too tiring; can’t wait for everything to return to normal

Anyone feeling as lousy as I am tonight?

When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins 

If even possible, I feel lousier than you tonight. 

31

Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; 
my eyes grow weak with sorrow, 
my soul and my body with grief.

My life is consumed by anguish 
and my years by groaning; 
my strength fails because of my affliction, 
and my bones grow weak.

I am forgotten by them as though I were dead; 
I have become like broken pottery.

Let your face shine on your servant; 
save me in your unfailing love.

Let me not be put to shame, O LORD, 
for I have cried out to you;

Oh Lord, You're Beautiful.

Oh Lord, please light the fire,

That once burned bright and clear.

Replace the lamp of my first love,

That burns with Holy fear.


I want to take your word and shine it all around.

But first help me just to live it Lord.

And when I’m doing well, help me to never seek a crown.

For my reward is giving glory to You.

The hardest part was letting go not taking part, you really broke my heart.

I Want to Want You.

There is no greater love than Yours,

Nothing else could ever compare.

Even if I searched all the world,

I could never find a love like Yours.

I truly feel like I’ve done a life-time, all-the-world search for love, acceptance and approval. I have been told all my life that I was a mistake, that I was good for nothing. I have taken hits and words sharp as knives and now like a man hungry and starving for food, I search. Have you ever felt so lost? And though you know the way, feel so lost nonetheless?

God, this is the only place where I can let myself go without judgement, the only outlet for all the negativity, all the hurt and all the pain. And I am crying out to You, to help want you more than anything else. Help me see You in this mess of a life that I didn’t ask for. Help me in my weakest area where I am so dependent on everything and everyone else except You. Help me not because I deserve it but because You’ve always cared, always loved, always have been there. Help me because I’m doing my best and I cannot help myself.

Even if I searched all the world, I could never find a love like yours.

The Irony of It All.

Now I’ve been running, slowly finding, never dying all my life

Been quick to leaving, unintending, never breaking down this pride

Been always wanting, always needing, talk about losing sight.

Been always giving, always pleading, all of my wasted time.

And you can’t help myself, you’re making your way out

And I can’t be distant, excused then abandoned,

No more, no more.

The Cure for The Pain.

I’m not sure why it always goes downhill 
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled 
I’ve spent ten years singing gravity away 
But the water keeps on falling from the sky 

And here tonight while the stars are blacking out 
With every hope and dream I’ve ever had in doubt 
I’ve spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away 
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows,  
I tried to find a cure for the pain 
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do 
It would be a lie to run away

Some nights, I do not know what to do with my brokenness. I sit here all alone in the middle of the night and try and pen it down. I some times pick up the guitar and sing about it, on other nights, I try and write a poem about it, other nights find me staying up tossing and turning all night thinking about it, but I suppose what I do most is find my place in music.

As I reblog the words of Jon Foreman of Switchfoot, I find it comforting to know that someone else has felt the same way. The situations may all be different, but I ask myself, how different can the emotions be felt across cultures, across language and in spite of all the bigger differences, how different can it be to feel sad? To feel empty? Not very different at all.

Tonight I’m wondering how some of us can be so secure. How can they be so independent, so needless, so constantly self-sufficient? And then I ask myself, how would I ever get there? Well then again, I may not want to be self-sufficient. Perhaps God-self-sufficient because I sure as hell mess up all the time. Psychology tells me it’s the effects of growing up in a broken family. My mind tells me that the etiology matters the least but pushes me almost always to the natural - a failing source of nourishment.

I am a wreck. I am shocked at myself, at how big this need has become. Time is not a healer. Time is not a bloody healer. Time is an advocate for pain; it takes the little pain you’ve got, and just when you think you’ve been through enough, it comes back to you, ten times its size, evolved, grown, and much larger than you ever imagined or think you can handle.

Another bucket full of sadness now out of my system and carelessly vomitted out as words.

This is why broken cisterns never can stay filled.

The Cure for The Pain.

I’m not sure why it always goes downhill
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled
I’ve spent ten years singing gravity away
But the water keeps on falling from the sky

And here tonight while the stars are blacking out
With every hope and dream I’ve ever had in doubt
I’ve spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows, 
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away

Some nights, I do not know what to do with my brokenness. I sit here all alone in the middle of the night and try and pen it down. I some times pick up the guitar and sing about it, on other nights, I try and write a poem about it, other nights find me staying up tossing and turning all night thinking about it, but I suppose what I do most is find my place in music.

As I reblog the words of Jon Foreman of Switchfoot, I find it comforting to know that someone else has felt the same way. The situations may all be different, but I ask myself, how different can the emotions be felt across cultures, across language and in spite of all the bigger differences, how different can it be to feel sad? To feel empty? Not very different at all.

Tonight I’m wondering how some of us can be so secure. How can they be so independent, so needless, so constantly self-sufficient? And then I ask myself, how would I ever get there? Well then again, I may not want to be self-sufficient. Perhaps God-self-sufficient because I sure as hell mess up all the time. Psychology tells me it’s the effects of growing up in a broken family. My mind tells me that the etiology matters the least but pushes me almost always to the natural - a failing source of nourishment.

You cannot take back that hit. You cannot retrieve your words. You cannot say anything now to make it better. You cannot resolve the distance even when we’re face to face. You cannot undo your mistakes. You cannot and will not make me better.

Another bucket full of sadness now out of my system and carelessly vomitted out as words.

This is why broken cisterns never stay filled.