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The dogs have compassed me,
With the evildoers;
Pierced hands and feet I see,
As wicked pursuers.
I can count all my bones,
They stare and gloat at me;
The pain has caused my moans,
Louder and will not flee.
They divide my garments,
As they cast lots for them;
Acting like some varmints,
For death on the condemn.
Do not be far away,
O Lord to render aid;
To die as a good day,
That the Father has made.
Save my soul from the sword,
My dear life from the dogs;
According to the Word,
To please the demagogues.
Save me from the lion,
Rescue from wild boar;
And take me to Zion,
Resurrection’s the cure.
Copyright © 2024 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Praise Suffering
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