Читать книгу Mulled Psalms - Marjorie Gray - Страница 10

Holy One, please do not scold

or treat us harshly.

God, I am exhausted:

heal her aching body;

lift his beaten spirit.

Will Your Love revive us?

How? When? Must we die first?

Sleepless, always weeping,

tired of grieving, we are

sick to death of fights.

Back off, demons! God is Listening,

Receiving each tear, prayer and sigh.

All antagonists, retreat and,

mortified, lay down your weapons.