I am a warrior standing deserted here,
A trail-blazer in the ways of the dark.
A prodigal daughter, a pioneer.
Lost in this love of being lost.
I know you want me, I ache for your winning.
I am never coming back;
I was out here from the beginning.
There is no back to come to.
Alone I stand, and fatherless at last I fall.
An unchosen one cast out in my rags.
I prayed, I sang, and You heard my call,
But hearing your answer, I ran.
I revel in rebellion,
Throw head back and scream agonized joy.
My life as an angelic hellion,
An orphan by choice, but whose choice?
I devote my journey to that answer.
There is one story written by the King.
There is but one dance taught by the Dancer.
He knows the story’s end, he takes the lead.
Blind and confused, or perhaps running true,
I fight and die; and if I never can die,
Forever I’ll dance the story of You.
Forever I’ll twirl at the brink of the void.
Or if die I must and watch the living through sightless eyes,
Then with joyful agony screaming, rotting in the cold,
I know the creation of life comes phenomenally.
Unchosen for life, but here I lie, chosen for death.
If it were up to me, it would be up to me.
My choice to make and I’d be right.
But it’s not, so I know it cannot be.
I’ll just wait and see what You have Chosen.