The Idols of My Sin: Psalm 51

How quickly, Lord, I move
Into my comfort’s groove.
How quickly am I blind
No mystery do I find.
Your word becomes so dull
I cannot see at all.

I look at pages thin
And know there’s depth within.
But all that I can see
Is what I’ve made of thee.
An idol of my thoughts
A finite god I’ve wrought.

My sin, I used to think,
Was only when I’d drink
Of fleshly passion’s cup
Drunk down with lusty sup
Drunk deep with vice and greed
Fulfilling selfish need.

But now the sin I know
So subtle does it grow
Into a love of facts
And to familiar acts
Then sacrifices dull
That you don’t love at all.

Create in me a new
Fresh heart that can love you,
Two hands that ne’er will build
Mute idols that are filled
With mem’ries of the past
Forms dead that cannot last.

Please let me live again
Away with all my sin,
And open these blind eyes
To see the truth from lies,
And make my heart contrite
To sacrifice a'right
And ever live in light.

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