Epithalamion (part 1 cont’d)

May 11, 2010

She begs the passersby for anything
that may assist her to escape this state
of numbing constant hunger in her being
that’s never satiated when awake.
Her cry for help is lost as much as she;
though bustling morning crowd may fill the streets
not one can dare to right the obvious wrong
nor care to hear of where the years have gone.
Alone, her soul her echoes do not greet;
her mind’s absorbed in grief, her heart diseased.

Oh lonely soul, the day will surely come,
when he will come to take you to His home.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: