What am I but what He wants in me,
What am I but what I want in me,
A battle in constant motion,
...
Waving pools of rustling hands,
In grops of callous hearts,
That fall 'neath waves of sorrow,
With inept and inopportune timing.
...
Self
What am I but what He wants in me,
What am I but what I want in me,
A battle in constant motion,
An ocean in perpetual conflict,
Unconquerable forces,
Unconquerable desires.
Yet all are a pale shadow,
A faded shade.
In the awe,
That is,
My Lord.