In mirrored halls, we chase a fragile gleam,
A shadowed self, esteem we build with care,
Yet sands of pride dissolve beneath the stream,
A mirage born of dust, a hollow stare.
The world exalts the ego’s brittle throne,
A crown of glass, by fleeting praise adorned,
But winds of doubt soon shatter what’s our own,
And leave the soul in silence, lost, forlorn.

Yet Christ extends a gaze that never fades,
A worth unearned, by grace divinely sown,
No shifting tides, no crumbling masquerades,
His love alone can call the heart His own.
Through Him, we stand, no need to prove or strive,
In boundless esteem, we’re fully made alive.