Lord, keep my thoughts as pure as lace, my eyes downcast, my heart in place. But he has come, and now I find unholy tremble in my mind. He does not sing, but still I hear his silence ringing in my ear. I try to walk the narrow way, but wonder pulls my feet astray. If guilt is proof of love untrue, then what, dear Lord, am I to do? *** Owen Taylor x OC The Starling Girl (A RETELLING)