The Weak Is Chosen

Early in the days of my life

I war against my maker,

Ever is he calling to give life

and ever am I a joker,

he always pleaded me to choose life

but my yes was to the destroyer,

oh! How poor I was.

My pride grew as I do

but his love remains unchanged

I smiled on as I say to death; I do

but his mercy remains unchanged,

I erred in all I do

but his patience remains unchanged,

oh! How wretched I was.

I got to a way unknown,

the destroyer left me as a prey,

death was near unknown

and I know not how to pray,

then I saw a hand unknown,

he took the pains away

and rest to my wandering soul

oh! How happy I am.

Now I am with my maker

and to my soul he gave rest,

bye-bye to the destroyer

and yes to him that give rest,

I am here to feast in love

Only because am the weak now chosen

Let the weak say, “I am chosen”.