Jan 27, 2015


By Anum Ali


O, Lord, the heart is aching, 

Pain bleeds, the drippage leaking, 

Collects into an ever-blemished soul, 

Corroding, eroding - the weakling. 

Trials, tribulations one too many, 

A helpless silence shrieking, 

We hold strong to Your Promise, 

A heavenly, silver lining. 

Our tears beseech Thy console, 

Our wounds beseech Thy healing, 

Lost wanderers we stroll the wastelands, 

Our footsteps search for meaning. 

There’s blood thinner than water, O Lord, 

There are ties but with no feeling. 

It is Thy love, still honey pure, 

At Thy council we find ourselves kneeling. 

Bless us with the nerve, O Lord, 

To face the storms upheaving, 

Our hearts cannot forbear the angst, 

Dreams, expectations, shattering, 

We hold Your Promise dear, 

In Your Will we keep believing.

Any thoughts on this poem? Please post in the comments section below :)


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