Why is it, when I need you most, I push you the most far away?

Oh, when I would forsake all, and sacrifice your gift to a devil.

Alas, that I have sold myself away without cause, for no gain.

And where are you to take me back when I have fallen, utterly?

I am alone because I have made it so, and far from friend and foe.

I hate myself, I hate my life, I hate my sin, and would you believe…

I HATE YOU? What I have done would make one…shudder…and,

Be convinced that it was the case, that, whom I should love,

Is the object of my disdain. And, and I have done it so many times,

I hardly want to come back anymore. I have set myself then,

Not just against you, but all whom I would help in your name.

For their sakes, I would better not to live, for my sin burdens their cause.

When will you restore joy unto my face and heal the bones broken?

I think the things of joy, and they are hateful to me, all goodness.

And friends, I fear to press on them my stain, and I, too proud…

That is why I haven't the heart to confess again, and again, and again.

You freed me once, why not again? I didn't know what to do that time.

But now I know what to do and cannot do it—what is that?

Some cruel joke, and here I am, killing my soul bit by bit,

As though you made me that way! But, but, why not kill me now?

I don't want to hurt you anymore. I do not trust myself.

I trust you, but am too proud to release myself. SO ACT!

How long until you show your mercies as of old, how long?