Hi, I'm Ryan Lane

What have I become, but another willingly burnt victim of the Sun?
Choosing religion over relation, and false fact over creation.
Denying my soul it’s will, and leaving its fragments in its view on a sill.
The chalice clean, but my addictions unseen, creating songs without a theme.
The Creator’s most loved bride has its population filled by those who have died whilst alive.
This place could’ve been paradise, but now it’s a resting place for weary eyes.
The young considered too immature, and yet there are no footprints on the immaculate floor.
So where did we go wrong?

Stop, rewind. Now play.

Here we are at the World’s creation, God’s first destination.
The Earth hasn’t been tested or tried, and a baby’s first tear hasn’t been cried.
All is perfect, all is well, and there is no such thing as hell.
Then man came, then mandates, then wars started by debates.
God sacrificed perfection, out of nothing but pure affection.
Towards a sinful race, who believe spontaneous combustions over a distant face.
The same intelligence that proves the Universe, won’t believe the subject of a Biblical verse.
They say Christians are deluded for believing in a Creator, but is it logical for elements to have more power than a delegator?
Atheism disproved, faith improved, and yet still some don’t have a clue,
How blessed we are to be loved by He, who only asks us to bow at His feet.
To say we are His for as long as we live, then eternity to us, He shall give.
It’s simplicity we need to return to, and to let his life be one we pursue.

Ryan Lane 2012

Who am I, but a speck of dust, a screw in a machine built to rust?
Who am I, in the wider picture? On the road to heaven I am one of many hitchers.
Who am I, but one of many atoms, just another bearing the weight of the sins of Adam?
Who am I, but a searching reason, a victim of the cold in a winter season?
Who am I, but a number or symbol, who on a chart is just a pimple?
Who am I, but a hair on millions of heads, a single cell where the Son bled?
Who am I, but a drop of water in an ocean, a dot in a love letter of devotion?
Who am I, but blade of grass in a field, a splinter of shrapnel on a shield?
Who am I, but a string in a symphony, a letter in a million songs to be?

Who I am, is a child of the One, who pays as much attention to me as the creation of the Sun.
Who I am, is a blessed man, whose lavish blessings have no span.
Who I am, is the victim of jealousy, whose Father’s love is overtly zealous.
Who I am, is a child saved from sin, and whose Father’s patience never wears thin.
Who I am, is better than I could ever be, without a Father who loves me extravagantly.

Ryan Lane 2012

When I was a youngster, with no cares in the World,
I only lived for fun and to be my Mother’s pearl.

No responsibilities, no jobs to do,
I’d make company with anyone; I didn’t care who.

Free time wasn’t such a rare pleasure; how much I long to return to those times can’t be measured.

Nowadays I don’t know peace,
I feel like I’m starving while everyone else is at a feast,

I’ve turned up late still expecting to get the best seat; I’m unplugged but I still wanna experience the beat.

Living, loving, always learning;
My inability to do these is rather concerning.

I simply don’t know where I stand anymore,
Although I’m knocking, I’m fearful of going through the door.

My OCD, my fears, my tears,
Have made me forget what I hold dear.

Have I lost vision in order to get ahead in life’s race,
But I’m not even keeping up with the pace?

I’m just lost; lost for words, lost for reason,
I’m not mechanically built to last this season.

I can’t remember what set my World on fire,
What kept me awake at night and kindled my desire.

Shepherd and Father, your lamb is lost and doesn’t even know where to turn. Help.

Ryan Lane 2011

You came to me and stood by my side,
I’ve witnessed that supernatural power is the verdict of why anxiety died.

It seemed as though I was on my own and lost forever,
Yet somehow you found me in my inescapable box of stormy weather.

How did you pull me from despair? How is it that on my head you know every hair?

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, even if passionate repetition isn’t fashionable amongst men.

Your awesome power never ceases to amaze, this at times doubtful heart, which has moments of craze.

When I imagine you’ve forgotten me, like I’ve been left behind,
Like you hold my plan but to it I’m purposely blind.

And then, you turn back up out of nowhere, even when I’ve thrown the towel in and don’t even care.

You persistently pursue me; bring me back to my senses for no fee.

Repent, and my sinful ideas of neglect are wiped clean, and never again by my eyes to be seen.

I could write for eternity on this love that never quits, that picks me up and dusts me down when my life is in bits.

This, I will continue to do, for it is my form of worship to you.

But for the time being, I will sum it up by saying: You are God. Thank you for being You.

Ryan Lane 2011

I’m living in comfort, no worries, no stress; but not giving God my very best.
Taking more than I’m willing to give, and not prepared for human nature to die so I may truly live.

Dipping my toe in His work, but not ready to be engulfed in desire to serve.
Fear of failure commitment and time, is easier to swallow than my pride.

Yesterday I devoted myself completely, until I had nothing left to give, and yet my internal scars remain with me until I no longer live.

Mediocrity is my way of protecting myself from future pain, because if my best is not enough, then I don’t have so much to re-gain.

I want to soar on eagles’ wings, but spectating is easier than enduring the stings,
That can come as a price of following the One, and taking up my baton with a heart to run.

But is it not a worthy price, when it can lead a child back to Christ?
Completely transform their lives, and do the same for others despite the strife?

So no more hesitation, no more second thoughts,
Just a sign of strength by letting God run his course.

Ryan Lane 2011