**A Psalmist’s Plea**

Beneath the heavens, vast and wide, I lift my heart where truths abide. Your law, O Lord, a beacon bright, Guides my soul through shades of night. Your covenants, eternal, sure, In stone and spirit, they endure. Yet sin, like weeds, entwines the land, Sown by the wicked’s reckless hand. They spurn Your ways, they mock Your name, Their hearts alight with fleeting flame. Their steps defile the sacred ground, Where righteousness should be renowned. O God, Your curses, swift and just, Return their schemes to ash and dust. Let not the righteous stumble, fall, Ensnared by evil’s cunning call. Wield Your law, a shepherd’s rod, To steer the stray back to their God. Let curses fall where wickedness thrives, And choke the roots of rebel lives. When wicked plans are brought to naught, Your justice shines, Your will is wrought. The faithful see, their hearts rejoice, Your promises ring clear of voice. O Lord, Your statutes are my song, My shield, my strength, my whole lifelong. Uphold Your truth, let mercy reign, And guide us home through joy and pain.