The moon gazing from up high
The gallant clouds and the silent breeze
Darkness grows and the world comes to a cease.
She sits on the window sill
Staring at the world that’s still
Deep within her, she hears a whisper
A strange question, a long-sought prayer:
Where do I belong?
Wading across the ocean of doubt and confusion
Stranded, lost and forlorn, she looks beyond the delusion
As reality is not what is seen but that which is hidden
Her agony deepens, but she awaits for that which is bidden
A whisper that quivers her soul:
When will I be whole?
Her soul has been shunned for too long
Imprisoned with chains too strong
For long she had chased the outside world
And silenced the world within.
Abandoned, it lied buried deep
Its whispers she chose not to heed
Now, in dire need, she is left with only one voice
So she listens as she has no choice:
When will I be free?
Every morn brings the same silent struggle -
The search for an answer beyond all hurdles
To reach into the depths of darkness
And rekindle that extinguished light
To lift the veil of incertitude
And behold The Favor in gratitude
To silence the subtle evil whisper
And feel that pleasant zephyr
To break free from her agitation
And rejoice at her liberation.
No comments:
Post a Comment