PS 18

We have made it here
Despite all self-inflicted
I know it's been much

We've made it this far
You must have a plan for me
Why else would we come/you save? 

This season quiet
It seems the quiet of peace
I must adjust to

They ask me for work
Give me rest in your graces 
Even as I do

That in your goodness
I keeping laying down my head
Each night, every night

The battle far off
Though in a sense it is here
Without and within

Be clear when it ends
Leave no ambiguity
It is distasteful

Raise me to my place
The seat that you have for me
With praise, and Amen.

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