Simple Prayer Poem by Amos Agyei Sarpong

grant this Lord i pray
draw your sword without delay. slay
fatal flaws of my ways
of deed, thought, every case
that may set Your wrath ablaze
old nick is up to tricks
of his iron bars turn to rust
of his laterite bricks grind to dust
of his wooden buildups burn to ash
o Lord, i implore, wash
to white my stained gown
in Your mercy let Your rain down
to nourish my heart — i seek Your face—
with love, pardon, and abundant grace