Prisoner By Choice

I am tired of pain,
The emotional kind.
My heart feels empty,
Spite clouds my mind.

Wishing for happy,
Fun-filled days.
I only go about in a fog-filled haze.

I am tired of hurting,
the emotional kind.

I see nothing genuine,
I feel only painful grinds.

I have an enemy who hates me.
Never a kind word to spare.
The accuser of the brethren.
For sure it's only what's in it for him.
That's his only care.

But what about me?
Whose heart do I seek?
To be kind to others, despite all, stay meek?
Do I seek the One's who died for me?
Or try and comfort my own heart?
Tis the latter.

Why do I stay in this state,
Why won't I go?
I really can't answer
I'm too numb to know.
Too caught up.

I see others living, loving,
Laughing.
Why can't I?
Nothing to laugh about.
Much though to cry.

I want to be free
I want to have fun
I want to have a purpose
Living as promised by the Son.

I don't.
It's my choice.
Misery, oppression, obsession.
Confession.
That's where I'm at.

God help me to be free,
I do not know how;

I am full of anger, hurt, pity, unforgiveness.
Because of this... prisoner by choice.

Yes, freely You give, freely I can receive... but I've got to forgive first, and then...

"...to break free from this, in my anguish cry to the the LORD, for He will answer me by setting me free. The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" Psalm 118:5-6 (NIV)

Ah, I am my own worst enemy,
Held as prisoner, by choice.