Passing through the hips of my fear, I contract with my addiction,
Born of the womb of my doubt, wherein abides my affliction.
The back alley birth of my selfish need,
for my life was spared through His willingness to bleed.
I lied not only to Him, but to myself I laid false claim,
as I lay here dirty and covered in the afterbirth of my own shame.
As an unfaithful lover, in the ear of eternity empty promises whispered and vows not kept,
like a woman carrying another man's seed, my burden He accepts.
Playing the harlot, I have flirted with my own destructive behavior,
in the throws of my death and the pangs of rebirth in my Lord and Savior.
Thank you, Jesus.
Honor, Glory, and Praise to the Most High