God I know I’ve beaten myself
To the bloodiest pulp
I’m trying so hard to trust,
All that is not sinful lust,
But all that is good.
God, if I am trying to pursue
All that is good,
Why then, do I still feel
The depths of pain?
Why do I see pictures of grotesque destruction?
Why am I not understood?
Why do I continue to dread everyday,
When everyday is beautiful?
Have I not received your mercy?
Have I not accepted your will?
God, it is that I don’t yet know your will,
So I ask Lord, what is your will?
Am I going to be able to come up from
Under the rock where the self-destructive kill each other?
Sometimes Lord I ask that you
Take me from this world,
But you are so good that you won’t do
That which you deem detestable–to hurl me,
To throw one of your children,
Into the fiery pits of Hell.