A poem written in the midst of struggle and strife |
There is a noise that rises from the heart Of despair where failure and fear mute hope. There is a voice speaking; words descending as A wraith upon the dark night of the soul, Hidden, yet with authority speaking As to declare itself believable. I am given up to confusion At questions coming out from the shadows Whose answers, I fear, is that I am fighting alone. There is a silence that is demanded And in it I find that I am fading Silent-so that even in my prayers it Commands that I must not speak of these things- Does grace ever grow tired? And does God Give into weariness from the waiting? I am silent. How could I justify Speaking when each word and breath I have wasted? The reward for failure is silence unbreaking. Is there anyone who will answer to The voices and to its questions reply? When after failure it convinces me That there is no forgiveness for this time. Is there anyone willing to search for me in The shadows where I’ve fallen out of sight? And in finding me will speak into my Silence so to revive me back to life Who is willing to suffer for my sake And endure with me through the night. |