how far, far afield my heart has flown -
away from the Light,
away from You.
abstractions abound to steal my regard:
even fractions of distractions are attractions
too great for my feeble will, and i am lost.
is there use in what i say?
with intricate words i confuse You and me; and,
while prattling on with no sense of impending doom,
my soul casts off its moorings as i drift away
into the world of the double minded,
tossed about by waves of my own instability.
Lord, be kind to those of us
who chose You and oppose You;
who choose You yet abuse You;
who want You but abscond with Your
gifts as thieves who uselessly steal the air they breathe.
Lord, be kind to we who turn away,
day after day, day by day -
Lord, be kind to me.
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