Repentance

My God, I cry out to You
        in the midst of all my pain.
Hear my voice, incline Your ears
        to my pleas unrestrained.

My heart is weak and weary
        from the burdens of my sin,
Pierced with pangs aplenty
        and bleeding deep within.

Once more I lift my tear-dimmed gaze
        to that old wooden pole,
Where Jesus shed His precious blood
        to save my wretched soul.

Washed spotless from my guilt-black stains
        -- oh can it truly be? --
From the iron chains of darkness
        undying Love has set me free.

Though often on the rocks I trip,
        headlong I will not fall.
The Lord lifts me with His strong hands
        -- "Fear not!" -- He stills my call.

Now, Jesus, quench my raging thirst
        with the beauty of Your face,
Holy Spirit, inundate me
        with your presence all my days.

For that moment I wait, in hope,
        when like You I will become --
and so, with all the saints I sing,
        Come, Lord Jesus, come.

I wrote this poem before daybreak today. I couldn't sleep the whole night so I just stayed up doodling on my journal. It was five in the morning when I penned the last few lines. I thought of writing some doublets while I was scanning through the Psalms -- but yeah, I admit, I did borrow a substantial portion of my ideas from the Psalmists.

I know that my words above may sound too simple and trite and sophomoric to some. But I hope that whoever reads them would get a sense of the grace of God, no matter how little, a sense of the unspeakable majesty of God's justice and mercy in Christ on the cross.