By Mark Bishop
I spend most nights alone
writing a poem, thinking about life
Or trying to run away
to find a place to stay that makes more sense than this
More unhappy than most I know
or just more than they let it show
I feel the world's weight crushing
I see the clock hands rushing to douse the flame of life
And it seems a happy ending,
sorrow's mending are merely men pretending, trying to make it right.
I fear that day when I shall stand before the Lord
and give an explanation for every thought and word
I will be left with only Jesus name upon my lips
as pride, idols, and addictions from my soul he strips
I hope it is enough oh Lord to know your name
I pray it is enough to say you died to take my shame
For only your love could justify this life
because I fear I'm wasting it caught up in all this strife
Hope is so often a mystery to me
Help me in my weakness, heed this sinner's plea
No comments:
Post a Comment