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The shackles, the weight

The shackles, the weight

These yearnings of my flesh –
Ever so strong ever so fresh –
With which I battle everyday,
While I work, while I pray,
May they not bind my soul
To hell’s darkened hole!

These thoughts of my heart –
So strong like pungent fart –
Tearing at my heart’s seams,
With spiky darkened whims,
May they not deny me a place
At the head of the race!

These cravings that I nurse –
Beyond the borders of my purse –
Loud whispers of noisy greed,
Ripened fruits of evil seed,
May they not break my hold
Of the one who leads the fold.

These sights my eyes see –
Raging like the seething sea –
Baits ever fresh, ever sweet,
Littering the church and the street,
May they not make me wait
Outside the city of Golden gate!

Lord help me to stand firm;
For lo, I fall amongst them.
Your ears are not deaf to hear,
Hear the voice of my fear.
Your hands are not short to save,
Bring me out from this grave.

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

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