Oh Lord, if I must cry,
let not my eyes run dry;
let me have the last tear,
for when my soul will eventually wear.
If I must wail,
may my voice not fail;
retain in me a last sound-
I may need to praise you aloud.
And whatever pain I might feel,
always give me a chance to heal,
and if scars be left behind,
make me proud not to hide.
When intense guilt weighs me down,
wash it away with my confession
so that I won’t fear your presence,
which is my cherished solace .
After I mourn a while,
give me moments to smile,
if only to keep the hopes alive:
of ‘better days’, new life to live.
And time to recuperate
after my strength is lost
in battles, spiritual and earthly.
Return my might fully
so I not fall by enemies formerly defeated,
nor commit sins hitherto avoided.
Remind me all I am,
in case I forget some
and plunge into despair,
unaware I’m your heir.


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