Be gracious to me, O Lord,
My eye is wasted from grief;
Let not my stress be ignored,
Confusion with disbelief.
My life is spent with sorrow,
Because of iniquity;
Uncertain for tomorrow,
For the lack of dignity.
All of my adversaries,
Especially my neighbors;
Have become mercenaries,
To smite me with their sabers.
Those who have seen me have fled,
I am a broken vessel;
And feeling like I am dead,
As thrown against an anvil.
Slander of many I heard,
Terror was on every side;
Scheming against me of my word,
Plot to commit homicide.
You are my God who I trust,
My times remain in your hands;
Knowing You are fair and just,
For I follow Your commands.
Please rescue me from my foes,
From those who will persecute;
Before hostility grows,
With death threat they execute.
Make Your face shine upon me,
Your blessing with steadfast love;
Giving me insight to see,
For Your mercy sake thereof,
Let me not be put to shame,
Send them silently to hell;
So I ceaselessly proclaim,
The falsehoods I must dispel.
Let the lying lips be mute,
In which is lacking respect;
As the blessings of Your fruit,
Will find the means to reject.
Copyright ©2022 Richard Newton Sherrer
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