An oily night sheds upon dark streets; mud and sand grind together beneath the pace of a solitary, rain-drenched figure.
The glow of city lights rise like steam into penetrating silence as the winds whip against my face.
No familiar scent of smoke, no sharp breath now accompanies me.
The thoughts are enough to fill those             restless, empty          nights.

I have caused this pain.

Now the thoughts scatter as an overwhelming surge of sorrow takes over,
spilling    warmly       from   my       eyes.

                Another suffers for the crimes of my pathetic self. Cold winds rush up from the chasm which sin has opened between us; friendship is swallowed up in guilt.

The reception crackles as a prayer filters through my phone. But if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.
Do you believe that he asks?

I nod forgetting he cannot see and a “yes” chokes its way out.

Christ came not for saints or priests, but to buy the sad heart that beats beneath this soaking jacket.
How can royal blood have been spilt for me?
Forgive me, God, for I am worthless without you.

 Redeem    my heart and make us renewed.