The anxiety inside of me is trying me
I feel like dieing see?
Why am I still trying G-O-D?
How much I truly feel as if you are denying me!
Can’t you see me crying?
I feel stepped on rather than flying!
I feel like you are just choosing to be denying
Thus in this pan I am frying
The truth seems to be lying
Can’t you see me, hear me on my knees pleading and crying
While pleading, and on you I'm somehow still relying!
I feel death has taken its toll
I feel I have suffered the seventh last woe!
The 7th trumpet has already been blown
I feel as if you have prevented me to continue to have grown
Where are the rewards for the seeds I have sown?
I am only a weak man thus I question the hidden lesson
Not truly seeing the blessing
But I do see, feel, and hear the curses
Not only thrown at me by life itself
But I can feel it all that which Satan disperses
Either enigmatically
Highly prolifically mathematically hurting me
I still feel like you deserted or are deserting me
I feel empty see?
I am so much in hurt
I thought you told me I have much worth!
I have such high value
But I’m a sad dude
Not a bad prude
Acknowledging I am spiritually nude
I seem to have lost or unclothed from my white linen
I need your strength to help me fight and be winning
Not allow me to fall from the stress and continue my sinning
I need to be replenished, refined and much more than rested
But I continue to suffer as if my soul is detested
I have spiritual allergies because my soul is congested
I am a tad bit wearisome for the time and energy I have invested
Will you ever answer any of my prayers that have been requested?
For I not only want but need
Your character in my life to be reflected and projected
I need to have my heart of heart precisely dissected
Take out the worry, fear and anger
And in me a new heart must be injected
I will sit back while fighting and swinging in this war of minds
And somehow still hang onto my hopes
That you will intervene in this life of mine
For I honestly feel rejected and confined
And although this is more of a message of prophetic dismissal
I need you to speak through me against the devil
And have my words fly forth like a projectile missile
I will feel the warmth of your loving kiss
Under the metaphysical thistle
And I look forward to either being alive at Christs arrival on the day of survival
Or being called by name and hailed by a whistle
I will hold on and not fold
Not allow my spirit to once again turn distant & cold
So I stay firm in your promises
And let your divine will just unfold!
SkTzO