Christen Kuikoua

March 01, 2007
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Whose Fault Mine Or God

Here I stand, burdened with remorse,
Each word I write, another solemn promise,
Life's cruelty, they say, but I see my own,
In choices made, in seeds of hate sown.

Does God reside amidst this worldly hate?
Yes, He does, granting us minds, freedom's gate,
Yet we wield authority with careless hand,
Creating chaos in a land of demand.

Sin, a cycle, endlessly repeated,
Mercy sought, yet sins remain undefeated,
Whose fault? Mine, I confess, with regret,
For failing to flee from sins' dark silhouette.

I speak from wounds, a testimony of grace,
Life granted despite my sinful embrace,
His love, unwavering, even when I stray,
Protecting me from doom, day after day.

Is this not love, beyond measure or name?
A love that forgives, despite my shame,
So here I am, in remorseful plea,
Thankful for His love, that sets me free.
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