Your Poetry Dot Com - Contents Under Pressure

Why do I have this talent just to rot?
Laying dormant its for naught
You know I/'/ve tried I/'/ve fought I/'/ve fought I/'/ve fought and
Now its reached a head I/'/m breaking down
I can/'/t get up off the ground
Bruised fists I pound I pound I pound I pound

But my God
You know that I praise You
Not because of
But in spite of
Lord I pray to You

Take this out of me
Take this away
Maddening frustration clawing my brain
Take this out of me
Take this today
Serenity is mine, I claim

Pain this bitter pain
Its courses through my veins
It/'/s only through the grace of God that I remain sane
Same pain this bitter pain
This life its wicked games
I turn my face to God inside His spirit reigns

And it always will
I was lost in the world for far too long to ever want to turn back now
It was bottomless despair
Despair
Despair

God take this out of me
Lord please deliver me

You gave me this gift
I/'/m closing our rift
Bless me
Just use me
End this bereft
Life

Cause my God
You know that I praise you
Not because of
But in spite of
Lord I pray to You

Take this out of me
Take this away
Maddening frustration clawing my brain
Take this out of me
Take this today
Serenity is mine, I claim

Pain this bitter pain
Its courses through my veins
It/'/s only through the grace of God that I remain sane
Same pain this bitter pain
This life its wicked games
I turn my face to God inside His spirit reigns

And it always will
It always will

8-21-2014

This poem is Copyright © sicknivesevered