To the man above

I am not the most perfect being and I’m not halfway there. Bless my poor soul oh you man above. Hear my prayer from a distant, deceived and disturbed soul. My soul burns in the near flames of hell. Agony has become my native name, my fears define me, my tears adorn me, poverty has become shelter and a broken soul is the only vessel that embraces my spirit man, One without direction and yet given as a gift and I’m expected to live according to his decrees to the fullest. Touch that very wrecked part of me, that very life threatening wound that stays in my thoughts... please touch me, touch my never healing scared brain, one that is in constant lamentation all because of the past, touch that very fragile heart in me. please touch the very failed communication system and restore it.

Most of all, I need you to revive me.
Forgive me
Lead me
Guide me
Correct me
Teach me
Hold me close
Just love me


When I wrote this poem I was inspired by my sisters lifestyle and her spontaneous change to the Lord's direction.

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