Oh how the flesh longs and strives,

For all those momentary, worthless and selfish sensual drives;

No matter what noble task the Lord’s kept in store,

This pursuit for pleasure ruins it all, from the crust to the core.

 

Oh how the spirit longs to strive,

For a lasting, glorious, triumphant heavenward drive;

But like little yeast that works through a whole batch of dough,

This cheap pursuit for pleasure makes us run like a headless chicken, to and fro.

 

What then is the purpose of this seemingly needless pleasure?

That deceives and deludes the flesh, like for a priceless treasure.

Woe to my wicked, vile and wretched heart,

That delights my flesh, but my spirit it feeds not.

 

Grant oh Master, your divine strength and striving grace,

To delight in you, that your marvelous treasures I may embrace;

To seek first your kingdom, that my drives would keep me on the heavenward race;

That when the roll is called, I’d find pleasure in gazing at your glorious face!!!