The Past.
Lacking substance is a thing of the past, although memories last.
I’ve always been the girl that can’t help reflecting on her past.
The need to be free is the only need I have.
The girl I once despised has left, no turning back.
When the sunshine starts to fade, and the fire turns black,
I still don’t give in.
Lacking strength is a thing of the past, although memories last.
The world preys on my weakness, & tries to divert my path.
They spit on my craft, but are living like trash.
Cue the self-confidence, I pray you feel its wrath.
And when the sunshine starts to fade, and the fire turns black,
I still don’t give in.
Lacking God is a thing of the past, although memories last.
I’ve failed all the tests, but still did the math.
The ways of the world scream in my ear, but He’s got me in his grasp.
He doused me in His favor, & continues to give me humility baths.
And when the sunshine starts to fade, and the fire turns black,
I still don’t give in.
Lacking the better me is a thing of the past.
