One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days, not dollars.
The amount I write on my time stamped heart, not on a check.
I cash it in and receive nothing in return,
No withdrawal, no deposit
Just sixty four days,
One thousand, five hundred and thirty six hours,
Where an innumerable amount of tears fell from these two eyes to fill pools in my two hands.
From this day on, the moments will continue as if the last five years never happened.
I am not promised breath in my lungs for tomorrow,
So do I continue counting?
To find out if the days without will exceed the days of bliss?
What did I miss?
I didn’t even get to say goodbye,
To ask one last time for your forgiveness.
The right thing was done in less than eight hours and all was gone.
I hope these days won’t continue with tears,
Because all this counting I’m doing these days
Just plays into the fears
That the last five years
Will be two million, six hundred and twenty eight thousand minutes of regret.
I will not let
The cunning serpent deceive me again, believing any good came from me.
I immediately reject that lie,
Knowing that the source of any good came from the Rock that was struck,
Where streams of Living Waters flowed freely to satisfy.
These thirsty souls can now receive
All they were made to need:
Billions and billions of years with You.
This an unfair trade You initiated and planned before time could be numbered.
Five years of good or bad, I cannot tell
For billions of perfect years by Your side.
But who’s counting?