Thursday, April 19, 2012

Anguish of the Soul

A weary soul within, a long face on the surface,
the world promises life, happiness, and bliss.
Eat, drink, be merry, are the commands it gives,
the promised paradise resides on an untouchable hill.
I fall in traps of believing so many lies,
my soul becomes burdened and it's hard to disguise.
God, my God, I have fallen short of your glory,
I've disobeyed, stumbled, questioned, and worried.
I thought to myself, "God, how could you withhold?"
When all along, I was digging my own hole.
Good things you have for those who walk upright,
yet I've transgressed and committed evil in your sight.