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You cause my friends to avoid me,
You made me a horror to them;
I am shut in and cannot see,
The reasons why they would condemn.
My eyes do grow dim with sorrow,
Every day I have called on You;
Will it be better tomorrow,
So that I can fully construe.
I spread out my hand to You, Lord,
Do You work wonders for the dead?
Are the departed just ignored,
Rotting away on their death bed.
Or do they rise up praising You?
Is Your love declared in the grave?
Does Your faithfulness remain true?
Before destruction do You save?
Are Your wonders known in darkness?
Your wonders known where we embark;
Your righteousness cover starkness,
Sailing on the forgetful ark.
Copyright ©2023 Richard Newton Sherrer
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A Desperation Cry
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