A Slave to Sin

(Inspired by Romans 7:14)

"For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin." — Romans 7:14

I wear invisible shackles, cold as the grave, 

A soul that was fashioned for freedom, yet lives as a slave. 

The chains are not iron, nor forged in the flame, 

But desire's dark links that tighten with shame.

My master is cruel, though I welcomed his reign. 

He promises pleasure but pays me in pain. 

I bow to commands that I hate to obey, 

Yet each act of surrender steals more life away.

Sold under sin—what a terrible word, 

A sentence more piercing than any I've heard. 

Not merely disturbed, not wounded within, 

But bought by a tyrant and bound to my sin.

I rise with resolve, swearing this day I'll be free, 

Yet the slave master whispers, "You belong to me." 

My hands reach for holiness, my feet seek the light, 

But my flesh drags me back to the depths of the night.

The whip never cracks, yet I feel every blow. 

The prison has no walls, yet there's nowhere to go. 

I know what is righteous; I see what is good, 

But I cannot perform it, though deeply I would.

A captive who carries his cell in his breast, 

A servant of darkness denied all true rest. 

I labor for wages that never satisfy, 

Drawing from wells that are hopelessly dry.

The chains have grown heavy from years of abuse; 

Each failure adds weight, each compromise noose. 

My heart cries for freedom, my spirit for grace, 

Yet I find the mark of ownership burned on my face.

Who can redeem what sin claims as its own? 

Who can break fetters embedded in bone? 

Who can purchase a slave who has nothing to give, 

And teach a dead captive how truly to live?

For sin is no habit, no weakness alone— 

It sits on a throne and demands to be known. 

It speaks as a king, and the flesh bends its knee; 

Its dominion is vast, and its prisoner is me.

Yet beyond all the darkness, beyond all the fall, 

A voice reaches through the bars of it all. 

A Savior draws near where the hopeless have been, 

To ransom the slave who was sold under sin.

And though I still struggle, and though I still fight, 

I cling to His promise more tightly than night. 

For the chains that enslaved me will not always win— 

The Master called Jesus is stronger than sin.

Written by: Karen McVicker