Because of all this I wrote a poem. *blink* Yes, I write poems when I get emotional. Most deal with tedious things as does this one, although there are some lighter poems and even nonsense ones :P So I hope you enjoy...and I didn't realize it was in Dr. Zeus rhyme until after I wrote it, lol.
Just a note, on the side: the terms death cup, whore, and pagan are used in allegorical terms. In other words when I use them, I'm not referring to what that word literally means ;) Also the line that says "my head to a gun", as with above, I'm not literally referring to a mode of suicide :P That's the thing with writing poetry...you can say one thing and mean something different. The thing is, the words evoke a deep feeling in the reader that helps get the message across.
*Ahem* so to sum all that up: this poem is about what's lately going on in my life. It's an intimate plea to God to get me out of the mess that's flowing around me. It's a prayer that He will stop the lies and gossip and sin. It's a hopeful declaration that things will one day be back on the upward path and our church will be free of the hurt it is currently experiencing.
A Prayer and a Plea
Dear God… life is so terribly tough,
The people I love just don’t care well enough.
When I try to do good, I slip up and do wrong
And I don’t seem to fit, I just do not belong.
So Lord, can you help me to walk in your truth?
Please speak to my mind so I won’t act uncouth.
The sin of this world is just eating me up!
If it doesn’t stop soon it’ll be my death cup.
Oh Lord hear my prayer, hear my plea from this earth;
Stop this great lie that prevents a rebirth
Of souls from occurring. Tie up the tongues
Of the people who bicker; dropping down social rungs.
I cannot explain how deeply it stings
To hear from a friend such a horrible thing.
I thought I was safe from this inhumane swell
Of wrongdoers bad-mouthing good people to hell.
And I thought I was in it alone as a bat,
But I forgot Him, one I hadn’t looked at
For a while. How could I forget Christ?
With his blood He bought me, a whore highly priced.
How could I forget Him? Love of my soul,
Who suffered at man’s hand: was pinned on a pole.
Surely He had endured far greater than I!
So why am I crying? Why this tear from my eye?
I will wipe clean my face and put on a smile
And swallow the pain that comes with the bile.
I’ll raise up my chin and humble myself
At the feet of my King, who puts sin on the shelf.
Yes, I’ll ask Him for mercy and strength to withstand
The assault of the devil--his forceful backhand.
If it weren’t for the Spirit, I don’t know where I’d be,
Prob’ly stuck in the mud like a pomp bourgeoisie
Unable to stand in the heat of the Son,
Yeah, I’d sure be a mess with my head to a gun.
But I’m not that way now and I never will be,
I have Christ in my heart, He’s completely saved me.
So I’ll step over gossip and slander and hate,
Since Jesus forgave me and set me down straight.
And though words may hurt more than cuts from a sword,
Jesus will heal me: I trust in His Word.
Goodbye, pagan sinner; you foolish old churl.
I won’t give to swine what I saved as a pearl.
I’ve gone to my Saviour. He’s left this place now;
I pray that you’ll follow us later, somehow.
If my Jesus does call me to go far away,
Then I must obey Him, whether night time or day.
I’m sorry for you and your place in deep sin,
But now must I leave, I can’t live in this din.
Jesus is calling, Jesus is here,
Wrap your arms round Him and with me, draw near.