A Cry for Help

A Cry for Help

Bored as heck, nothing to do
just to sit here and think of You.
But why are You always the last resort?
Why must Your end always be short?
Everyday You show me grace and mercy,
and all I do is mock and curse Thee.
I'm tired of being tired
without You my life has expired.
I want to receive, I want to believe,
but my pride refuses to be on bended knees.
Break me, tweak me, mold me, teach me,
and if the old me breaks free,
do away with me.
There is no need for there to be a me, if not to honor You.
I want more than a hollow clue
of what it means to serve You.
Let it always be You and me and never me and You.