A Prayer for My Soul

Winter is the season of my life,
But thou created four
But I hath one, thou created
And nourished me
Only to suffer, took away
The helping hand
A heart that care and an eye
That shed a tear,
Yes I am angry, upset
Thou care not,
Thee piled me with misery
A snakebitten soul,
With countless cuts though
Still standing, with hope,
Thou will shower
With thy mercy,
Bless this ill-fated soul