Poetry

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A STUDY IN MELANCHOLY

When do I see
The inside of me
The way that my Father does.
And when do I know
How my spirit can grow
'Cause He loves me you know, just because.

I don't feel quite the way that a person should feel
When they've been given torrents of love,
But I do know the path
Is a strange, twisting gas
A gift from the One Who's above.

I used to endure
And long to be pure
What became of that champion of Christ?
To rise one more day
And to walk in this clay
Seems to now be my passionless price.

Enough with the moaning and groaning
I am sickened by rivers of doubt
The creeping of full blown insanity
Beats my soul like a prizefighter's bout.

When You see me approach from a distance
Will You weep that I've finally arrived?
Will You tell me You love me and missed me
Or will wrath fill Your purified eyes.

Be to me Lord a holy sure advocate
A High Priest of merciful grandeur,
A Friend in the worst of my failures
A Brother who ever will endure.
I can't say that I've paid what I owe You
I won't say that You left me alone
I long to be free of this world where You put me
And see You and hold You at home.

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