The highs and lows of this here life
Had tossed him 'bout till hope stood still.
The poisonous sting of death’s remains,
he’d taken bravely with no remorse.
A wandering traveler without a guide,
lost in sorrow and tarnished dreams.
Found not he a tearful eye,
when sharing how he was left behind.
Then saw he way afar,
a pensive Stranger now appear,
He seemed to have a nail pierced hand,
Outstretched to him the lonesome traveler.
He couldn’t help but hold it dear.
It was a touch he long had needed.
It held him fast through desert storms
and gently wiped his lingering tears.
Howbeit this stranger knew his name
and told him how he was not the same.
This lonesome traveler He met before
had now become a friend of a King.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Until they reached precious Beulah land.
The gates were pearl, the raiment white .
The streets were gold and twas never night .
The music was sweet and the streams were pure.
All things there were a joy n delight,
a rest for the weary and abode for the dreary.
The lonesome traveler was finally home
A brief story of my life. Although the poem has ended but God's pen still writes for me. The journey has not yet ended.