etasticforthelord

A Cry for Help

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Enemies have pursued my soul,
Crushing my life into the ground;
I sit in darkness like a mole,
As those long dead without a sound.

For my spirit faints within me,
I remember the days of old;
I meditate the works I see,
I ponder the works that unfold.

I stretch out my hands unto God,
My soul thirsts like a thirsty land;
I’m corrupted and very flawed,
While standing on sinking sand.

Speedily answer me O Lord,
Hide not Your face from my presence;
My spirit will fail if ignored,
I need Your comfort in essence.

Don’t let me go into the pit,
Let me hear of Your steadfast love;
And make me spiritually fit,
Trusting on where to go thereof.

Copyright © 2026 Richard Newton Sherrer

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