When I dream upon the bygone saints,
I question my resolve if crisis bite.
But knowing sin was brought from taints,
My chance at glory seems so close to sight.
But is that not the error of our ways,
To long that children chant our names.
‘Tis wrong for faithful men, despite its pays.
We are not meant to pine for needless fames.
For when Paul found his God by side of road,
His life was transformed and saved his soul.
I cannot know for sure what seeds are sown.
Though deep inside there’s faith to mend my hole.
In time I hope to find a goal for work,
A role which God’s great plans I do not shirk.
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