Friday, May 02, 2008

Late Night Prayer

It happens on nights

My eyes are robed of sleep.

My dreams come alive,

Are pored out on a white sheet.


Sometimes its lightning,

Sometimes like a painful ache.

Stopping like dieing,

Or chill watter in the face.


God use it wisely,

For my fear is disgrace.

Keep me humble, holy,

Don't let me squander your grace.

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