Sonnet 8

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How I strive to call you Lord to no end,
When built up walls of pent up hind’rance fall,
To bow, lay, and crawl to your feet and bend,
My head and life, that you may kill me all.
What are you waiting for? Right here am I,
For you to break my heart and mold my life,
So that I may move and serve you and die,
To make you King and end this sin and strife.
Oh to die for you so that I may live
Life, true and full and feel the scourge and taste
The blood, the wine, the pain that breaks and blows
My thrashéd flesh to glaze in linen laced.
Oh wretched Christ of dreadful, deadly blend,
Pursue my heart; your sword to be my friend.

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Hibbs is an ordinary man on the pursuit of freedom - from evil, from tyranny, from the mundane, and from neckties.
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