Prodigal Son

Prodigal Son

I came to him, not worthy for a son.
With what I’d done, just what could I expect?
Not able to outrun what I had done,
I now would have to face the sad effect.

So there he sat, but not how I’d expected.
His face, it held a smile, not stern or grave.
He brought me back to him, but I objected,
“I’m only worthy now to be your slave.”

But then he took me in and drew me near.
I waited for his answer, full of dread.
“My son, you once were lost, but now you’re here.
You came to me alive when you were dead.

On one thing now you surely can depend;
You know my love for you will never end.”