Daughter of the King

My sin is deep,
It bears my name.
And often times
It knows no shame.

I want my way,
It speaks of rest.
I think for me
That I know best.

My guilt is there,
The history is mine.
And as of now,
Its a matter of time.

If to me I lie,
It eats from within.
Consuming truth,
As an animals din.

Though if I am honest,
And tell whats true,
God can cleanse
And see me through.

Its up to me,
Which way I go.
For the way I think,
Is the experience I know.

The way of the lie,
Will consume my being.
Or a child of God,
A daughter of the King.7