His Arms Still Open Wide

Struggling from harmful things done to me in my past
by someone in my life, the curse of sin was cast.

Loosing my innocence through one whom I depend
and it seems eternal, my hurts will never end.

Like corrupt Absalom who hung up in a tree
between God's earth and sky, sin lives in front of me.

Suspended up somewhere between heaven and hell
alive in the cosmos, the curse of sin doth dwell.

As judging creation amongst angels who sing
stumbling on decadence, I'll stand before my King.

For in my ignorance of knowing why He died
came the realization, His arms still open wide.