Sweet victory tasting
Bitter was the cost.
I could not shoulder the burden
That He has borne for me.
Though it is my own.
Trumpets blaring victory
Sounds not mine to make.
There is music placed in my soul.
I only take that freely given
As joy burns off the shame.
All for me done.
Undone am I.
Falling short, but crossing over.
Measure not my actions judged
By His who bears my standard.
A. Coticchio February 2009
