Here’s another poem. This came about from the time I’d spent early in the morning in a quiet house before anyone else wakes up.
Silence
The morning dawns, but the day isn’t new.
Curtains blockade the sunlight
As I lay in bed, lost and lonely,
Staring at the blank ceiling.
My wounds have become scars.
The fire in my heart is snuffed.
My world is gray.
Are You there—there in the silence?
I’ve cried out to You ‘til my throat’s raw.
Your silence terrifies me.
Speak comfort to me.
Renew my hope with Your voice
Before my bed becomes
My final resting place.
Did you find this information helpful? If you did, consider donating.