PSALM 3 — The Savage Version
I wake to a war that never lets go,
Enemies rising inside me like a tidal undertow.
They whisper, “You’re nothing, you’ll never ascend,”
Poisoning my faith from beginning to end.
They shout, “Your Creator won’t bother to save!”
As they drag my heart toward its own grave.
These voices aren’t strangers—they live in my chest,
Ego-born demons denying me rest.
But You, Creator, are the shield I can’t see,
Lifting my broken head back toward Thee.
Your light cuts through the filth on my skin,
Burning the falsehoods I buried within.
I fall into sleep surrounded by fear,
But You pull me up when dawn draws near.
For every breath I take is not truly mine,
It flows from Your heart through the love of the Nine.
Ten thousand thoughts try to tear me apart,
But they shatter like glass on the stone of the heart.
When I lean on my brothers and drop all pretense,
Your salvation floods in and knocks down the fence.
Creator, smash the teeth of the serpent I feed,
Break the illusion stitched from my greed.
Strip off my armor, expose every flaw,
I’m begging You, tear the lie from its jaw.
For salvation is Yours—it can’t be claimed,
Only revealed when the ego is tamed.
Bless the Ten with a love the world can’t ignore,
Where “I” disappears and “WE” becomes more.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please leave your comments here.
as a poet my aim is to raise an emotion
did it?
Thank You for visiting