We all clench soil in our fists in hopes it’ll turn to roses.
We all cling to souls in hopes they’ll turn to gratification.
Bless me now, o Lord, lest I seek solace in another
empty well or a still-full grave. Return me to You, Savior,
for I fear I will, once again, replace You with meaningless
idols, in hopes they will somehow give me what
only You can. Be stronger than my will, o Father,
for I know I am every bit as human as the worst of us.