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My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.
Psalm 51:17

Sacrifices and burnt offerings, You have not desired.

But my hands cannot stop continually stoking the fire.

Surely I can make You proud.

Surely You’ll applaud my strife.

I tirelessly work to find my own way,

my own truth, my own life.

Did God really say?

The enemy hisses in the firelight.

Did He really say, “It is finished,”

Or is my atonement my plight?

I let the fire die down,

Along with the enemies’ lies.

My broken and contrite heart, O God,

You will never despise.

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