My Rock for This Age
Fragile. Battered. Broken.
Bruised beyond repair?
Pushed so hard I am about to break.
Death would be a welcome respite
Instead of staying in this dirty place full of strife.
Foul, I to the fountain fly.
Wash me, Savior, or I die.
Against the evil, on my own
I cannot stand
Save for the strength of the precious Great I am.
He takes my steps
Before I take my steps.
Beyond the struggle
I shall behold His face in righteousness.
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