Sunday, June 27, 2010

you poor soul!

O You who loves to hear the sobs of regret
O You who holds the Cure to disease an illness
all eyes have gone to sleep, but these poor eyes stay awake
crying at Your Door in the middle of night, in darkness
those sins, I committed them, I admit
yet I know You with conviction, full of Greatness
give mercy, that is Your Prerogative, don’t look at my failings
indeed Your Generosity and Forgiveness, are boundless.

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