The weight of his sin hung around his neck
A millstone, ready to pull him down
An outcast was what he had become.

He barely hung on by a thread
Ready to quit
He was too ashamed to beg, too dirty to blend.

The scorching sun beat on his back
Jagged stones cut his feet
Dirt clung to him.

Like a light at the end of the tunnel
Like a silver lining on a rainy day
He found hope, one he held on strongly to.

The fountain of life was before him
He washed himself and his robe shone in the light
He was free.

The devil thought he had him, but he ran.