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You cut through me like a hot knife through butter.
Baring my soul with your quickness. 
Looking through me as though I wore clear crystal as skin and bone.
Seeing me with your eyes of wisdom, you read me as though I were a book, my pages layed open for your perusal.
Nothing is hidden from view, even those things I would protect are strewn before you like the playthings of a child.  
My clumsy hands cannot withhold them.
You  know me better than I know myself, understanding my thoughts afar off.
If only I would take heed to you, I could begin to understand myself.


For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.



Thanks for listening