The Author

 
Dab… Dab… Dab…
The Author’s quill touches down.
Ink soaks into the scroll,
Connecting curving-strokes.
Letters forming sentences.
Sentences forming passages.
The story unfolds from His mind:
The Story of You—no other kind.
The ups and downs; the lefts and rights.
Before you came to your mother’s sight,
From eternity you were in His heart:
A living being, a destined part
Of stories yet told.
 
Dab… Dab… Dab…
The Author’s quill touches down.
Victory leads to vindication.
Defeat will need redemption.
Some fights with fists.
Some struggles with soul.
That destined itch
To conquer all
That is yourself.
 
Dab… Dab… Dab…
The Author’s quill touches down.
Long before you first planted your feet
On the starting line of your life’s street,
A destined end was drawn;
But you’re no pawn.
Until the final corner is turned,
Until the final stroke is penned,
Until you reach life’s end,
The Author awaits
For you to earn your rightful place
In The Story of You.

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