etasticforthelord

A Distress Cry

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I cried to the Lord with my voice,
In pleading for mercy from the Lord;
Supplication that’s not of choice,
Hoping that it is not ignored.

I pour out my quetch before Him,
Telling him about my trouble;
Of how it is making megrim.
Burden buried in the rubble.

My spirit is overwhelmed and faints,
Upon the path where I will walk;
A hidden trap without restraints,
As enemies insult and mock.

I look to the right hand and see,
Nobody cares about my soul;
None of them takes notice of me,
The trap is a very deep hole.

The Lord is my sanctuary,
Shield in the land of the living;
Defense from their military,
Renegades that are defying.

God does attend unto my cry,
Because I am brought very low;
Rescuing from those who defy,
His mighty strength that He can show.

He brought me out of the prison,
That I may give thanks to His name;
Because the righteous has risen,
Dealt bountifully to proclaim.

Copyright © 2024 Richard Newton Sherrer

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