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Lunatic430

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

6 poems·Since November 2020
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Be Still

November 25, 2020

  Cold terror washes over me

The breath is stolen from my lungs

Numbly I kneel

I can feel it inside me

A warmth that has been missing

So many times I have tried to fill the hole to no avail       

Peace My child

His whisper soothes 

A sob escapes from me 

Why had I feared this?

Why so many times I turned Him away?

And yet ever still He persisted 

All for me

What makes me so speacial that He would call me His?  

                                          

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