Saint Christopher, please let me find my way.
The Sun has set and left me in the dark.
I’ve wandered off; I’ve gone too far astray
And now regret will flood my sinking ark.
The weight of God has burdened me too long
I need a guide to carry me ashore.
I stand here, waiting for your saving song
In hope of facing torture’s tide no more.
Your beacon sets my once enslaved soul free.
My sins slide off my shoulders to the sand.
Now finally I turn to face the sea
With steady feet at last upon the land.
How strange, however, now I seem to crave
The lull of breeze upon a dancing wave.