The Point of Submission

What is the point?
I ask, I move on,
The question suppressed.
I keep pushing along
In a world with no God
And no “why” to my being…
No hope, it’s ridiculous-
Not worth even seeing.
But still there’s this question;
It tears at my mind:
Is my purpose for living
Just standing behind?
“To God all the glory”
Causes my ego unrest.
I don’t want to follow;
I want to be best.
I stick out my chin
Like Lucifer bold.
“It’d kill me to submit-
To stay in my mold.”
The height, yes, is there,
Yet not to be grasped.
I still need an Advocate
On my behalf.
God, make me content
To sit at Your feet.
I’ll yield myself,
Your heart only to meet.