When Adam fell, I fell too, and with our fall a residue
permeates my wizened soul, coursing through my veins as cresol.
In diffidence I'm not alone, judgment comes from His great throne.
The scales that Holy Law decree are used to weigh my chastity.
No doleful sound between my lips, no words would form through fears tight grip.
He swans the universe its light, and frames the worlds with awesome might.
Perfection is the agent used, to judge the dissidents accused.
But at the bar of Justice sits, both one who judges and acquits.
When Adam fell from heights unknown, the King of Kings left His throne.
The Lord of Lights was handed down to faithless men who wore no crowns.
Crucified by savage beasts, He is now both judge and priest.
The Lamb of God for sinners slain, this Holy act became mortmain.
At the point of souls nadir, before the Throne of Grace appears,
mercy's hand pierced just for me, the Son of Man from Galilee.
Now praises rise from my delight, to be washed clean and heart aright!
No judgment waits to rear its head, there is no more sinners dread.
I've been made clean with majestic love, and peaceful heralds I hear above.
When I falter and fall from grace, my redeemer I'll embrace.
Adam the first stained my soul, but Adam the second has made me whole.
- ▼ March (16)