Despair
For years, a fight with darkness
With a lamp low on oil
They say daylight approaches
And the sun will warm the soil
But still I shake my cup
Spare change for the poor
And still I cover up
the damage from the war
Iron sharpens iron
Unless the iron is in my hand
One chambered explosion
Will silence grief’s demands
Offer this last forgiveness
As I press on you to haste
Let me fall into the arms
Of a father’s warm embrace
Relieve me now forever
Oh, let me see your face!
One last sinful endeavor
One last gift of grace
2 Corinthians 1:8 (ESV)
For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.
