You Found Me In The Crevices

You found me in the crevices,
alost,
alone,
afraid,
and then you found me in the darknesses:
alone,
alost,
afraid.
And then you suffered with my weaknesses,
tiring from the raid and though
you suffered through my weaknesses
you loved me all the same.

And though I ate the bitter sting
my blood was tongued with metal
you spurred me in the mettled darkness:
the price had all been settled;
in our weakness
in our crevice
where arrogance hung like dirty cloths for endless days
like dusty cloths,
you hid me from my weaknesses and mended them your ways.
You set a prophet in my heart,
you gave him words to speak.
You gave him words to tell me how
the places I was weak.
You told him I am not my own
and though you've shown me many times,
cradle still you all my weakness,
knowing I am blind.
I heard a voice,
I called His name,
I blundered to His soul,
he told me a tale of a far off land,
where weakness is not my own.
My weakness is not for myself,
but for the cross to bear,
and on the night I doubted most
my Jesus met me there.