Why every time I turn out the lights,
Lay my head on my pillow,
Say goodnight to the night,
I find myself in agony and fighting back?
Fears about what could and might happen,
In so many years.
Oh how he fights me when my eyes cannot see!
Images appearing of what never will be.
My mind is not clean from my imagination,
And my emotions fall short of,
Where reason should be.
My will is self-directed and always affected,
By the tiniest of desires that well up in me.
So I need a new soul since mine is infected,
By this sin injected nature I have to break free.
Ezek. 36:26; Rom. 7:17-25; 2 Cor. 7:5
COMING FORWARD 