Breath

O fleeting breath of fading flower
Of drowning men in sinking ship
Fast we approach the unknown hour
Vain we cling with weakening grip

Ours to hold but for a while
Young laughter fades to heavy sigh
The clouding mist sight to defile
Hopes laid low that once were high

But hope lives on beyond the veil
Found in one who once knew death
The appointed moment will exhale
Then glory comes with next breath

Chris Thomas

Disciple. Father. Husband. Pastor. Writer. A beggar who received grace.

http://www.ploughmansrest.com
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Saying Goodbye To Narnia

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I'm No Quitter, But I Feel Like Giving Up (Part 2)