I saw her, I was sure.
It wasn't a choice to be pure.

I never prayed for a special moment.
That kid, poor little kid running on contempt.

Never got the chance to dream about a wedding.
Formative years spent on everything worth avoiding.

It was enough to at least oh please be able to understand.
It was what I was able to pray so hard, to see beyond.

Then the pain found its solace, it is not going away.
There it is a gift — truth, that may seem to betray.

It gave us a chance to fix, to forgive, to belong.
There is so much more than being wrong.

I saw her again and now it is vague.
So jaded mere prayers even fade.

Lord, give her strong will.
She knows what to feel.

Maybe I lost it then.
Let me feel again.