AG (6/23/88 / Collierville)

Faded Memoirs

As I watch with guilt and mellow drama
I saw the end of my life's aspirations
I begged and pleaded and grovelled
For mercy at the sight of His hand.
Struck me down, he did, with rage
All inside his tapped-plenty rage
And showed me the life of sullen thoughts.
Could it be that way divine?

Forever did I remember watching
The hand of Him coming down.
I lamented and resented and loathed
Further in my heart is buried.
Threw me into a world of pain
A broken and sick world of pain
And cried as I fled the hosts of demons.
Could it be that way divine?

He watched me flee and cower
Does all but ever help me
As I waited and lingered and tarried
For Him to notice that I was his servant.
Yet condemned, He still did, to me
This torn and battered left of me
Into a world deprived of futile light.
At last, could it be that way divine?

Praise, I do, for my only Lord in heaven.
What is still left of Him is part of me.
But what must I do for him to accept
That this is the only life for me.
Granted He sees my life's memoirs
My abandoned and faded memoirs
As He watched with guilt and mellow drama.
Now, He has pointed out for me that way divine.

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