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From the dark in my prison
cell,
Doubt and confusion
shackle my wandering
thoughts,
though my heart devoted remains.
Through the bars of my jail
door,
I send questions for answers,
I want a light in
the growing dark,
I need
a ray of hope to hold on to.
Look not upon the gathering
gloom,
But know this is true:
the blind see, the
lame walk, the deaf
hear,
the dead live, and to the poor the
Good News is proclaimed.
Luke 7:18-23 |