The Gift of Prayer
Dear Lord,
I know the end is soon to come
My frightened heart beats like a drum
Past events in visual recall
In rapid succession I appraise them all
WAS this my life after three score and ten
The avariciousness of a thieves den
WAS this my life ignorant still
Low in Spirit and weak in will
WAS this my life a degenerate mess
Rejecting assistance with such casualness
WAS this my life filled with wanton delight
Nonsensical whimsies without any respite
Dear Lord, I want to cancel it out
Forgive me my sins in alarm I shout
Lost Sheep, YOU are my chosen one
Throughout YOUR meanderings a light has shone
YOU have faltered oft I know
But throughout each betrayal I have loved you so
YOUR cries for help have not been in vain
YOUR triumphs my loss, each confession my gain
YOUR deeds good and bad are in your eyes
So few of mankind do apologise
Love is YOUR gift on your sleeping face
Peaceful at last in my constant embrace
Theresa Stephens
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