The Hope to rise again

The path I'm treading on

I know not where it leads.

It hurts, it pains. Still I go on.

My heart and soul go weary.

I cry aloud to vent the hurt.

Who doth understand a heart?

Nor a bosom bud or kin,

Who had known you for years.

No man do I turn to.

In my darkest hour I cry out,

to the One who knows a man's heart.

Dear Lord, Why should I take this road?

I ask with my heart still broken.

Like a potter moulding the clay

So am I moulding you, my dear

You may break, be hurt

But you are always in my hands.

With this Hope I rise again

to walk the miles that lay ahead.

Comments

  1. ebenles. blogspot. ComJuly 28, 2020 at 9:34 PM

    Reading your poetry after a decade :) Transparent and straight from the heart ! Would love to see you write more. Keep this candle burning. It's beautiful.

    ReplyDelete

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