I’m spinning wheels,
Distracted,
To escape malaise.
But keeping busy
In the world
Doesn’t bring You praise.
I’m living for myself,
Running,
Afraid of what You want.
But I am weary
From flight –
Am empty, gaunt.
I’m still here, Lord,
Hanging in
So to bottom out.
But when I fall
Please catch me
Before the snares of doubt.