In the twilight of my horizons
With a spear of jealousy
I waded through the swamp
Of moral poverty
On the avenue of my possessions
My wisdom was applied
I lived for every moment
But every moment was a lie
But the master reached out His hand
Descending like a Dove
Turned the caterpillar of my despair
Into the butterfly of His Love
In the chariot of my anger
The bitter wheels rolled on
I slept on my advances
But my rest had come and gone
The clock of my contentment
Was many years behind
The gears in need of oil
And the hands would not rewind
But the Rose of Sharon claimed me
Descending Like a Dove
Turned the coal of my failure
Into the Diamonds of His Love
My mind was cold and shallow
My tongue had turned to stone
The hands of self-absorbment
Worked their fingers to the bone
Like a song without a singer
Or water without a well
My soul a lonesome nomad
Looking for a place to dwell
But the Son of God redeemed me
Descending Like a Dove
Turned the ghost town in my heart
Into the kingdom of His Love
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