The silent bitter cry,
The painful groans in the dark,
The slippery path that thou does ply,
An endless journey to embark.
A profound hate in love,
A faithful steward to death,
Sincere repentance in words,
A soul tied to a stake.
Times when arms failed,
When will stood no chance.
Times when advice failed;
When counsel lost her strength,
Soon after boasting of might,
Thou goes crumbling again!
A breeding lust in desires,
A trap covered with passion,
The bounds and chains unseen,
These are the plight of an addict!
There are moments of regrets,
Immovable lorries of resolutions,
Bidden laws, worn on thy wrist,
But then, thou at down again!
In trials and struggles,
Thou lends ego a voice,
And when Help walks up thy lane,
Thou still saith "it is well."
How is it well with thee,
When hell awaits thy arrival?
How is it well with thee,
Whilst thou at stuck in the mud?
I'm stuck! I'm stuck!
Scream at the top of thy voice.
I'm stuck! I'm stuck!
Let help finally reach thee!
And God's grace raise thee!
