Today I’m praying for one
imprisoned in their own mind,
locked behind bars of anguish
that no key can open.
Are you the God of the disordered mind?
Do you watch as ropes of anxiety
already tight pull tighter still,
making death seem a sweet release?
When being is misery, Lord,
the gift of life is torture.
When torment is inescapable
there is mercy in oblivion.
God of this bleak day
the salvation we seek
is a quiet still heart.