Willful sorrow,

indulgent in joylessness.

Casting off delight where delight should be.

Sluggish to respond in following His will.

Indulge in melancholy; hoping for rescue.

But a yawn toward life causes other’s to scoff and ignore.

“Let them wallow. Let the noonday Devil take them.”

Wandering thoughts, hearts, wills in times of indifference.

Idleness leads to idle thoughts and wandering eyes.

Destruction not far behind.

That vacant look. Light in the eyes dim, fading like a dying star.

Lift us out of the sludge and deep waters. To rise to the surface and fly. Swift as angels’ wings to do His will.


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