Prayer of a Prostitute

Oh the sin of my heart cries out loud
I turned my heart into a brothel house and let the Devil and his friends make it their dwelling place
Lying naked and making love for the material desires
Lost in instant gratification I sold my body, your temple, to the lusts of my heart
When they have had their desires met, gathered around me
Threw me on the streets in the broad day light, so the world shall see my true sinful self
One after the other they picked the stones, laughing and cursing
Ready to drill my sinful temple with holes for the broken me was not needed anymore
My Lord, My God! You intervened. Was it necessary to save a prostitute like myself?
For you to lower yourself to the ground and speak to the heathen on my behalf?
You saved me from my public shame. Forgave my iniquities and left!

Was it not my duty to repay the kindness you showered with a small token of pure Love
that I would sell what I had to buy you a fragrant perfume
to sell my past, my broken heart and buy tears full of Love
My Lord , My God! I kissed your feet and lowered my head, which once was crowned with pride
To clean your feet with my tears, to show how much I have humbled myself
When everyone in the room looked at me with contempt,
You embraced the broken heart with kind words!
The virgin temple you ever so desired, profaned by the immoral deeds
The temple you so dearly desired to be dressed in purity sold to the devil
Oh the burden! The pain! The broken prayers! My Lord, My God!

This prostitute lay down at the cross, counting on each word you spake
My Lord, My God! Was this defiled Temple worthy of your blood and sacrifice?
I would ask the question again and again
I was bathing in your blood. The virginity I lost to my desires,
I was substituting with my reborn heart
Knowing that it would never compare to the sacrifice you made
How could I preach it? For I could not talk properly.
I couldn't even confess your Love with my very soul I so dearly held close to me.
What pain this heart endures. My Lord! My God!

How can I tell people what I seek lies beyond my understanding?
They see me as a prostitute. How can they now look a me any different?
My Lord, My God! I fall yet I try to stand up
But the winds and the blows are too strong to let my legs find the roots
For I know why I can not find the strength
I still cling on to the blood and desires born of the profanity I conducted.

A day will come when the world shall understand why I had to lie down at your feet
Wash them with my tears, prepare you for the excruciating pain I would inflict on you
The pain you so desired to make me clean,
The world shall know it and see You in Me
My Lord, My God! I wish I could tell the world the beauty of your sacrifice.
The forgiveness I have attained, yet struggling to treasure it!