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Psalm 88

by Robert Hawkins © 2021

O my LORD, God of my sure salvation,
I have cried out to you night and day.
Laid before you is my supplication;
give an ear to my crying, I pray.

My soul's burdened with troubles, non-ending;
I fear death and the grave's very near.
To the Pit, with the rest, I'm descending;
like a strong man whose strength disappears.

I've been left with the dead and the rotten,
like the slain in their graves neath the sand.
You remember me not -- I'm forgotten,
and cut off from the care of your hand.

To the lowest pit's depth, you have thrown me
in the deepest and darkest of graves.
And your anger weighs heavy upon me;
overwhelmed by the force of your waves.

By my closest friends I've been forsaken;
you have made me repulsive and vile.
I feel trapped with no way of escape, then;
I am blinded by tears all the while.

Every day, LORD, I call you so often;
and I reach out to you with arms raised.
Are your wonders for those in their coffin?
Will the dead arise shouting your praise?

Can the grave give your love declaration?
Or the netherworld speak to your grace?
Will the dark share in your celebration,
in a land where all thought is erased?

But I cry for your help and protection;
in the morning, you're met with my plea.
O LORD, why must I face your rejection?
And why keep your face hidden from me?

I've been near death since I could be carried;
now your terrors, I cannot avoid.
​​Your fierce anger has drowned me -- I'm buried;
by your terrors, completely destroyed.

​They surround me like waters that hover;
they encircle me round without end.
You have taken from me friend and lover;
​now the darkness is my closest friend.

This poem won second place for the October 2021 poetry contest

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