by Sharilyn Martin
It wasn’t sense that let you in,
O Lover of my Soul.
It isn’t chains that hold You there—
my soul is paper thin.
I’ve fallen hard, I can’t turn back—
there’s none to whom I’d go.
And yet my soul is paper thin
and gathers dust and wind.
But I have found in You my Life
and must return again—
for on my soul (it’s paper thin)
Your Name is written in.
Sharilyn is a girl who thinks a lot about light and time and what it means to live for Jesus.
Photography by Sharilyn Martin