Worn from a life that was spent on nothing
without even memories left to hold,
At night an empty beds left beside me
And a past that leaves me hollow and cold.
For I fell for the lies of the Devil
He promised He'd make me complete,
I left what I had in search of happiness
and end up with a life bitter not sweet.
Whats left of my life is not much Lord
but like the widow who gave her last mite,
I give what I am, though I am nothing
here's whats left, I've no strength to fight.
Like the clay that was marred by the potter
my life has been marred by my own sin,
the broken pieces I give them to you Lord
to piece my life back together again.
"And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so He made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the Potter" Jeremiah 18:4
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