I am marred by the incurable
My decisions named ‘deplorable’
And everything I touch turns into sand
The storms of life have weakened me
All hope has now seeped out of me
I want to get away from this ‘holy’ band.
My memories no longer sweet
They mock me as I wake or weep
I cannot move, oh Lord, please take my hand
The wisdom that I know I need
Eludes me though I pray and plead
My future cannot be in this hard land.
Is there a place that I may hide
Until You take me as Your bride
Where I can write of love to You alone?
The judgments that are hurled at me
From those who say they care for me
Just drive me out to find another home.
Is there a land where no one knows
That I am shy, withdrawn, morose
Where I might find a non judgmental friend?
Where can I watch the restless sea
That fills a yearning need in me
Lord, are You there? Please hold me at the end.
Wyn Barratt May 2013.