I've near a demi-hour
And cold, cold walls and doors
Reminding me of floors
I've fallen to from towers
Are sticking to my skin
And I feel the cloud above,
Leaving me devoid of love.
'Tis your sweet mess I'm in.
It hurts, it hurts, and I
Feel too fragile here
For I'm not fond of fear
As you come walking by.
This dust-and-ashes tomb,
Too frightening, too bleak
Has left me scared and weak,
As you invade the room.
I hate to lack the strength
For I want to stand and praise,
But your ways are not my ways
And you'd go to any length
To have me know your grace.
So I repent awhile
In the sunbeam of your smile
Alighting on my face.
My own unfounded wrath
At this injustice dealt
Is all too keenly felt
As I stray from your path.
I need without relent
A reminder that I'm not
Alone, for you have bought
My time here lately spent.
I would rather blame
My circumstances cursed
Than hear the oft-sung verse
That lifts your blessed name.
I give it all in haste:
My ways, my doubts, my all,
For I will gladly fall
If you but give a taste.
You tell me I'm set free,
For you suffered that I live
If only I will give
Each wounded part of me.
And such I gladly do
For on my own I know
Not precisely where to go
But choose to turn to you.
I cannot take the hole
That is left when 'tis my choice
To ignore or heed your voice
And I destroy my soul.
Would that you hold my hand;
I choose not as I please
For I know 'tis not with ease
I find my promised land.
'Tis this sweet touch today
That takes away my shame.
I will bless your name,
For you give and take away.
postscript
Bad day. But by the end of it, I was reminded that Someone suffered much more than I will ever understand, and all to pay for that bad day I went through. The Lord has given and the Lord has taken away. May the name of the Lord be praised. It's no coincidence that I wrote it in ABBA format.