O Lord, destroy the roots below
And bitter fruit above;
The works of Satan now I know
From his disordered love.
Himself he loves and gives to me
His inward turning self;
Refuses to You bend his knee:
Begets in me ill health.
Please give me now Your healing balm
Mixed from Your own shed Blood;
Restore in me Your inner calm
With Eucharistic Food.
Again may I Your image be:
Reflection of Your love
And outward turn that all can see
I’m re-made from above.
Disorder now is cast away,
And I am truly free
To choose God’s Son and seek His way;
His wisdom lives in me.
PROCLAIMING TRUTH! 