My Pleas

You think you want to die, but in reality all you want is to be saved.

This written a few years ago during trying time of life for me... Sometimes acknowledging the struggle is the hardest part because you know you have to hold yourself accountable for getting through it. This is my acknowledgement, and my pleas for help.

I stare at the blade....
It shines, metallic and painfully sharp.
My flesh craves the pain.
It tingles with desire.
All that I've built crumbles to dust.
I face a struggle to satisfy my self inflicted thirst.
I war against this monster ruling me.
If I could simply put You first,
This hatred wouldn't be consuming me.
Lord, please heal my blood lust.

Part of me resides in a place
Filled with mire and dirt.
Blood from the rooftops runs over my face.
I crouch low in a dark corner.
I know I can't hide forever in darkness,
Because the Son will shine again.
But here I deny it.
Here, the tears that long to spill refrain,
And I indulge my addictions to evil.
Lord, please let Your grace remove my bitterness.

I have defiled myself.
I have bruised what is Yours.
I should have valued my innocence.
Instead I left the gift soiled and torn,
And each was one more sin You had to bear.
Look at this wreck...
My mistakes are on display for You.
Shame is my covering.
How can I say I don't know You?
Lord, do you still hear me?

How long will I run from You?
How far would You let me go?
How many times can I make a new substitute?
Do I really want to know?
You give me everything I need.
To say that You are not enough,
Is to tell a lie.
I lie when I refuse Your love.
So weak, yet so full of pride...
Lord, only You can save me.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed