At the door
of Your compassion do I knock, Lord; send aid to my scattered impulses which
are intoxicated with the multitude of the passions and the power of darkness.
You can see my sores hidden within me: stir up contrition—though not
corresponding to the weight of my sins, for if I receive full awareness of the
extent of my sins, Lord, my soul would be consumed by the bitter pain from
them. Assist my feeble stirrings on the
path to true repentance, and may I find alleviation from the vehemence of sins
through the contrition that comes of Your gift, for without the power of Your
grace I am quite unable to enter within myself, become aware of my stains, and
so, at the sight of them be able to be still from great distraction.
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