"For the wages of sin is death..." ~Rom 6.23
Once trust is broken
Can it ever be the same
Or is the remainder a life that's broken
An existence filled with pain
Choosing to live with questions
And fearing the answers they own
Reaching back to consolation
But useless weeds are all that's grown
Torn between the distant calm
And lost hope's empty shell
Living the knowlege of Heaven
And the reality of Hell
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