The Psalmist’s Cry

Beneath the lectern’s shadowed chain,
The Psalmist kneels, his heart restrained.
Each curse is bound, each word confined,
Confession weaves through disciplined mind.
With careful breath, he seeks to mend,
His soul’s lament, his faults to rend.
The chains hold tight, no wrath escapes,
A whispered grace his tongue reshapes.

Yet loose the bonds, let scripture sing,
Its untamed voice a piercing sting.
The Psalmist wails, his sin laid bare,
A storm of grief cuts through the air.
No meek confession now he cries,
But curses hurled at starless skies.
His enemies, their doom he calls,
Deliverance sought as mercy falls.

O chain or freedom, which to choose?
The heart’s lament, or wrath’s abuse?
The lectern stands, the Word alive,
Its truth shall judge, its fire revive.