Never what I am,

always looking for Me,

life follows no plan,

we're tossed in a stormy sea.

We walk on trial,

walk down death row,

while accusations pile,

growing fear of what the evidence shows.

No judge and no jury,

thoughts of death,

but what's your hurry.

I can be so much more,

I'm always reaching up,

My spirit is rich but my weakness has me feeling poor.

Oh Father please remove this cup,

but nevertheless I'll do thy will,

I need thy strength,

I haven't enough,

to carry my cross up this hill.

My weakness remains,

I do what I can,

I fight and I struggle,

but it stays the same.

No one can help me,

they only can share the shame.

I scream, I yell,

I speak, and tell,

all that ails my sorrowful soul,

my waking Hell.

Though nobody can listen,

no one can see,

so Oh pure white paper,

I turn to thee,

to pour my heart,

when my well overflows,

to cut off my thorns,

and reveal the rose.