It’s in offices filled with suits and heels,
classrooms, waiting rooms and ballrooms;
it’s in the parking lots of stores and stations,
theaters, arenas and city streets;
the den of lions sits in wait
ever prowling on a foundation of hate
ever noticing weakness to its bait…
…what whip must I shoulder?
…what way to avoid distress?
…what prayer can I mutter?
…what fearful worry confess?
Only this, I know, dear Lord –
alone if I travel,
my limbs, they’ll tear apart
devour my innards at will
most certainly digest my heart.
Only this, I pray, dear Lord –
protect me from the drove,
a sword against the horror,
a shield around and above…
Save me from the lion’s den,
save me with your love.