Angst of a Broken World

How much more broken do you want me to be, Lord?
How many more shard pieces will you create out of the already broken pieces?
Some shards have turned to powder but the grinding has not stopped.
Is it your will for me to die broken, as broken as your power can muster?
Is there more to sueeze out of this battered soul and weary heart?
I have cried buckets, prayed as I know how, knelt in prostate.
But you have been unyielding to desperate pleas.
And then you keep feeding a dream, planting the seed, fuel the fire.
And when I kneel, you slam with your tough "NO"
Tired, broken, weary, hurt, lost -  I still break to pieces
But so be it.
In  this game called life, you are the god. I am a mere mortal