Bondservant’s prayer: a doulos’ dirge

I cannot hear , I cannot hear

so Master take this ear, take this ear

For alone it turns in doubt and fear

it makes its way to distant dead lands

and settles for words most dull and bland

I cannot hear, I cannot hear

so Master,take my ear, take my ear

lest it turn like a vessel unable to steer

or it sit idle beside toungues most adept

at burying souls in a dark cold depth

I cannot hear , I cannot hear

Please master, take my ear, take my ear

It wants no more the noise to follow

or the ashes and soot in ground to wallow

See master , I cannot part myself from this ear

So Master Jesus take it to your breast most dear

Oh , Jesus, make this ear your own

Nail it beneath the door of your throne

and let all that you speak to it be alive and be made known