I'm running, running running. The sun is on my face I'm running, running, running, the wind is in my mane I'm stopping, breathing, seeking. The clover was so sweet I'm going, going, going. There's not enough to eat I'm hiding, shaking, searching. There's fear in the air They're coming, coming, coming. I smell them everywhere I'm stopping, waiting, watching. I see the rising sun. I'm stopping, waiting, watching. I see the ending come. I'm floating, floating, floating, on a cloud of perfect bliss No hiding, starving, fearing. Perhaps I needed this They're singing, singing, singing. I hear the trumpets blow He's calling, calling calling. I think I might be home
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“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.”
~ Romans 15:13