posted on Sep, 18 2020 @ 04:30 PM
Is it all come to waste, for I have built without the means to finish? The means I had accepted I have squandered. Taking for granted the one who has
loaned a great deal to me.
Truly wretched I have made myself in your eyes, o Lord, but I have seen your disgust and have made myself low. For you share your look and crush my
bones, still they rejoice for your will hath ordered it well.
My rising is proud and vain, for quickly I am pressed like grapes. Still mercy is evidenced by constant intervention.
Where can I go from your spirit?
from your presence where can I flee?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I sink to the nether world, you are
edit on 043030p://555 by backcase because: (no reason given)