This is not quite what I had in mind.
I forgot there is a price
On this road to purified.
I call out for Your mercy;
Prepare me for Your will.
What I really want is simple-
To keep my own gods still.
Your love is raging fury
On the death to which I cling.
You'd rather break my body
Than lose me to it's sting.
So, I look to my example
The King without a crown;
Through His lack of pride
My life in You is found.
Teach me to die well,
To all my hopes and dreams.
And remind me of the true peace
That only You can bring.
I've been told that real poets don't rhyme. I'm not a real poet.
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