Heaven is my Witness

Part 1 Heaven is my Witness

I swore a thousand times I’d never fall back down,

Said it with busted knuckles, blood on the ground.

But words are cheap when the night comes fast,

And the same damn thoughts keep haunting the past.

I told myself, “I’m done, I’ve changed inside,”

But temptation laughs when the heart still hides.

Because knowing ain’t knowing, it’s just a guess,

Till truth walks in and undresses the mess.

Who’s gonna testify, who’s gonna swear?

A witness from heaven with ink and a chair?

Nah—this ain’t court, this ain’t religion’s play,

It’s when the Light shows up and blows doubt away.

When the face gets revealed, no shadows remain,

No loopholes for ego, no room for the game.

You don’t behave ‘cause you fear getting caught,

You stop ‘cause you’ve seen what the lie has cost.

That’s the testimony, carved deep in the chest,

Not spoken in words, but burned in the flesh.

The rescue itself seals the deal inside,

No strength required, no oath, no pride.

Before that moment, we bluff and pretend,

Promise tomorrow we’ll be a better man.

But the will to receive keeps grabbing the wheel,

And faith without sight starts slipping for real.

So fear steps in like a barking dog,

Snaps at the soul, lifts you out of the fog.

You don’t touch fire ‘cause you know it’ll burn,

That’s repentance born where the stomach churns.

You back away shaking, sweating, unsure,

Not ‘cause you love—but ‘cause pain feels sure.

And the Creator says, “Good, at least you stopped,”

Your crimes get softened, your sentence drops.

What were sins turn into honest mistakes,

Blind moves made while asleep at the gates.

You weren’t denying—just couldn’t see,

Lost in concealment stacked deep on deep.

Sometimes you believed, sometimes you cracked,

Like seeing a friend from behind, off-track.

You thought you knew Him, then doubted His face,

Misread the signs in the pressure and pain.

So fear does its job—it pulls you back home,

Puts brakes on the beast that thinks it’s alone.

But love ain’t here yet, just survival mode,

Still walking by rules, not carried by code.

Yet even that fear is mercy in disguise,

A hand on the shoulder before deeper lies.

Because when the face finally breaks through the wall,

You won’t return—not today, not at all.

Not because you’re strong or suddenly clean,

But because Truth was felt, tasted, and seen.

And when the Light saves, it signs its own name—

That’s the testimony that ends the game.