The Throng

“Oh Lord intervene
I feel so unseen
My heart aches to be known
And yet feels so alone.”

I ache, stomach churns, this desire to be seen
Idolized to the point that it comes in-between
My Maker who knows me, He’s calling me to  
Let go of my grip, bid this idol adieu.

But my fingers are locked, cramped onto this hold
Can’t release, even if, I want, truth be told.
It's no longer a choice, abdicated my claim
Free will gone, prisn’r of the evil one’s reign.

I beg him for mercy. He sneers in reply.
Reminds me of how I agreed to this plight.
Was lured by mirages, false promises preyed
Looking for some relief, I fell for his bait.

Now here alone in misery’s cell
I writhe in the pain of despair’s death knell
Can’t bear this dark torment -a life so alone 
Cease to wonder if God would undo what I’ve sewn.

But the smallest of prayers trickles off of my lips
“Lord, please now release my wretched, cramped grip.
Renounce all the lies going on in my head
Announce all your glory, put Truths there instead!”

And lo, do you hear 
That thunderous roar?
Herald of Mercy,
He pounds prison’s door!

“You’ve got one of mine,
You’ll hand her to me!
Be gone you imposter,
I command you to flee!”

Then suddenly cleared is my head from the lies
All I hear is His voice, that sweet battle cry.
Near collapse, He catches and cradles me strong
In His arms I recoup, 'fore I enter The Throng!

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