Providence in Pavlov's

Broken glass, spilt beer, and cigarette butts
fill the field of my vision.
My gaze is upon 
the tread-upon.

Some may have a lofty eye
yet mine sighs a lonely "why?"

Peering down on the scarred tile
undeserving of even that home.

Lost, dead, blind, alone
these adjectives are mine, I own.
Inadequete, devoid, these words lack the fill,
they lack the fullness of my emptiness, my seal.

How did I ever get so far?
How did I find my home in Pavlovs Bar?

Everywhere I look I see illusion,

my heart overcome with confusion.
Is today tommarow?

Yesteryear now?
Is up down?

Horse cow?

I feel like truth was once a friend of mine.
In the playground of my youth, it's beauty I'd find.
Innocent and alive, no sense of worry,
caught up in an my own life story.

Then...
Providence arrives.
And by Grace alone, 
my soul survives.

Sent as an angel with beer in tow,
came and gave ear to my groans of woe.
This word and that word, it really didn't matter,
just a taste of concern, even a smatter.

Okay truth, 
here I come.
See ya lies,
I'm done.
Maybe truth is in this bar,
maybe truth is in a home afar.

I partake on my Exodus, seemingly aware that I'm alone,
Yet my flight is guided by the Chief Cornerstone.
Unknowing of my Divine Guide,
until later when I have died.

Amazing Grace how sweet the sound,
I once was lost, but now I'm found.
Melodious, haunting, and yet inviting I find the hymn,
the words come alive as does my heart so dim.

Then my past I must face.
And I feel unworthy of even dirty grace.

Broken

Awoken!

Tear upon tear, wash away each fear,
Grace upon Grace, gives my soul a face.

Words fail me
My God avails me...