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Carl Binger Aug 22
God seems pleased with making me weak in these dark waters.
Not only is it night, but I am in the shark quarters.

I’m exhausted like long flights, mixed in with shark bites.
I’d rather jump down two flights than face this next wave of true fright.
    
My mind is turning like waves; I’m burning inside with all rage.
Before I head to my grave, I meet with endless caves.

These are unfixed depths, Nowhere to place my steps. This deep is cosmic; it’s gaping. Unplumbed and spacious,
It’s gaping and yawning,
Where vicious life is spawning.

I’m in a losing battle, you see, throwing sand at Helm’s Deep.
The deep is breaking my knees; I’m quickly drowning to sleep.
This poem is from my book The Progressive Darkness: For the Christian Losing Hope in Depression
Carl Binger Aug 22
It was a good run or, should I say, a crawl for me.
Some really underestimate the hurt that this curse can be. It’s like You have Your back to me While also stabbing me.

I thought You were the faithful one, the one who healed the broken sons.
When You said “It is finished,” I never thought, “I’m the finished one.”

What happened to Your love for me? Will You ever come for me?
You said that if I came to You, You’d never let me free. Yet it’s a mystery how Jesus Christ has abandoned me.

Because of Your grace, I can say this race was a great run.
But what was the point if I didn’t know the raised son?
Now I’m in terror; I feel my faith is the fake one.
This poem is from my book The Progressive Darkness: For the Christian Losing Hope in Depression.

— The End —