Poetry

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Please rescue me, O God,
Water up to my neck;
Being weak also flawed,
I am a nervous wreck.

I sink in deep mire,
Where there is no foothold;
Your help I require,
My fate starts to unfold.

Waters have gotten deep,
I am weary having doubt;
Flood waters tries to sweep,
Please hear me crying out.

My throat is feeling dry,
My eyes are growing dim;
Waiting for You I cry,
Life is looking so grim.

The number of my hair,
Hate me top of my head;
Please show me that You care,
So, I no longer dread.

Mighty are who try to kill,
They attack me with lies;
I do not want to instill,
Pleasure within their eyes.

I did not take away,
But I have to restore;
That others disobey,
Making it an eyesore.

For you know my folly,
The wrongs that I have done;
Help me to be holy,
Please do not abandon.

Do not let those who hope,
And putting them to shame;
Give them the strength to cope,
Helping them to proclaim.

Do not let those who seek,
By bringing dishonor;
Show them how to be meek,
Becoming a fawner.

They that sit at the gate,
The drunkards that sing songs;
They need to see their fate,
Because of all their wrongs.

Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer

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