Tears are drenching wrinkles
On fatigued, weary face
Is this wallowing in self-pity
Or pangs of conscience phase?
Words muted, barely audible
Beseeching the Holy One & Immutable
Is the entreaty betoken by lips humble
Or engrossed in self & thus formidable?
Due intent is the timeless demand
Shallow-headed, unsated desire
Bag of dirty tricks toss into fierce fire
Trounce incessantly the foe dire.
While the curing gift of grace endures abated
The fruit-bearing dance remains forfeited
Living soul commits doomed self-destruction
Willfully toiling in evil conscience, fatal infraction.
Crucified Love bind the soul to the Glorious Tree
The allures of this world be crucified to me
Bound for all time to the Cross, never forsaking Thee
Under the Tree of His dolorous Passion
Bathe in Blood of purging, Redemptive Love
The King of kings tears off the pierced Hand
From the Life-Giving Tree to ardently reach thee...
Clutch at the Arm of Mercy
For His passions
Are forever thirsty
Stained with Blood
Savagely pierced Hand
That will the final