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Creature

Zambroa

Light
Found it in its shame
Confused and all alone
Hidden to its purpose
I don't want to know

You moved it first
Before it knew a thing
What could it be worse
But a worm from the grave

Grace
Brought it to its knees
How could it believe
Conscious of these things
What do I have to bring?

I hate him until I don't
I'm already lost in his arms
I chose nothing like a boat
Driven only by the storm

Who am I that he is mindful?
And who is he that he should care?
Callous soul so sick and spiteful
Loving lord paid my fare