My soul is fragile, it Breaketh like thin glass, For carelessness is a rough friend. The longing to be put back together, That deep and abiding need, It hath coursed through me. Unto you I cry, O Glassblower, Thy judgments can smelt my shards, At all times, in all places, everyday repair me.
My soul breaketh for the longing that it hath unto thy judgments at all times.
Psalm 119:20
