I Am Ravaged

It’s the same pattern
On repeat, oh Father
How have I been so blind?
I’ve always felt like a bother,
And that was by design.

He encourages what I love
Until I invest and enjoy it,
Then he suffocates it slowly,
Until, ultimately destroying it,
He displays torn remnants of its carcass

And when my grief levels off, and
I begin to dig the grave I’ve had to measure,
He auctions off what bits remain
To indulge his basest pleasures
Wiping the fat on my funeral shroud.

He is evil and I am blind
But even as I learn to see
What am I going to do about it
Except cry out to Thee
My Just Father-King:

Deliver me from evil.