Forgiven

I don't feel forgiven—ever only needing it,
Like thoughts that become corrupted on a spit,
Not knowing who will pick me up,
Like an over-used and under-loved drinking cup.
What's the meaning of love anyway?
Sometimes all I can do is keep it away.
Does the Savior really know my name?
It might be a big reason why He came.
The Light shatters upon my soul like rain,
Washing away the senseless strain of pain.
Mistakes have been made, but made dim;
I am forgiven—ever only needing Him.
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