I want to be holy, but my faith is weak.
I want to be set apart, but unwilling are my feet.
My inclination is to choke, but my desire is to grow.
What is relevant in all I know?
I may be silent, but at least I'm real,
Attempting to reflect the things I feel.
Oh the taste, the taste of Your mercy is bittersweet,
Receiving grace instead of what is truly my defeat.
I want to cry out Your name, but I've lost my voice.
In the end, this is my choice.
I know I'm meant for something more,
But how do I follow the One I adore?
© 2011 Kaeli Riccardi
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