To deny yourself
Hated by man
Kill me now
Why struggle?

Am I not supposed
To express myself
To have all I want 
To be what fulfills?

What a downward path
Those thoughts have led 
To bondage and chains
My desires fed

So I die another day
Crucified with Christ
My body lay
Strangled with desire

Every dying breath
Calling out for more
Until it can desire nothing else
Because the grave has done its work

Then life in me
Springs forth again
And joy can bloom
In the season of tomorrow 

To always be bombarded with the ideals of happiness and doing what your heart desires gets tiresome as a Christian. The greatest idle is the complete opposite: death to self. 

It seems horrible at first, until you remember your desires have fed you to the wolves with no remorse. 

The strangle hold they have on me (and us) often feels very real. It’s when I remember that it is through the death of those desires and self that new life comes.

That new life fulfills the promises of what my desires crave but never satisfy. 

The joy the comes is usually not right away. But the seed is planted for that joy to bloom tomorrow.