Tough times call for a shower.


Hallelujah my Lord,
My sins haunt me dear God.
Broken times are coming for
All those who've had evil thoughts.

It is what I've learned;
Not for what I've fought,
Oh my Lord, shower me with pain,
Love, hate, your power almighty.

The meaningful mist of rain,
That brings the blind to see;
I'm buried in my longing,
For all things I don't need.

Let us not forget,
The floods of what we've got,
Because the water's murky,
I only know what I want.

Oh wash that away, Lord.
Can you cause my sins to clear?
I only can pretend to see forward,
And act like I've got nothing to fear.

Really, I fear everything.

Poetry by Tori
Read 1097 times
Written on 2008-04-22 at 04:39

Tags Lord  God  Rain 

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