I’m A Fickle Man

Lord, take me to a place I do not know,

A land where noble thoughts and godly deeds, do grow;

Yet, I fear that when your messengers come to take me,

From my pleasures and my comfort, they’ll need to make me.

Entrenched complacency, calls upon your force majeur,

To free me, for I doubt my own resolve, to abjure;

In my poverty, I desire the treasures on Your better shore,

To the riches upon this shore, which make me poorer.

Come swiftly then, please do not hesitate!

For this world, myself included, I do berate;

In this moment, now is ripe, as I’ve repented,

And the next one, may undo all I’ve intended.

It’s Your grace that gives us visions, for what is better;

Yet, earthly men, we have a taste, for what is bitter.


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