Prayer Tide

Prayer, a tide of washing's wane confers rancor's disdain that when a spirit fastens me upon annoyance lame, the bitter vetch is carried off like dust per aft the rain, and I am saved to fill the cup of Holiness again. But when my mind is so filled up with worry and proclaim I only hear the goading sup, that lengthens with its gain and so my spirit is vexed abrupt and I react in vain, to curse the vestige interrupt that fills me with its pain. To curse that cursed thought destruct my goodness is its aim Oh, Godly giving, pray construct relief from mortal strain.