Gerasene

 My battlefield, myself alone,
 where heart's opposing lines are drawn.
 My warring mind is rent and torn:
 Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.
 
 What have you, then, to do with me?
I know who you are, heaven's son.
O Christ, hear my half-hearted plea:
Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.

My sword is turned against my arm,
 and from its point I cannot run.
 Myself alone myself would harm.
Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.
 
  My thoughts are traitors to my heart.
 So much I do, I wish undone,
 but act and wish are far apart.
Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.

You came, O Christ, to reconcile,
 to end the war that's never done.
 Can you not let me rest awhile?
Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.

I can no peace within me make
 who have no battles ever won.
 Come, Christ, and all my weapons break!
Lord, I am Legion.  Make me one.