If this is all I have left,
If flowery words and insightful paragraphs are where it ends.
If there is no real meaning or lasting truth to it
If choice is no more a tangible option
And desire and promise are futile to my general progress
If something called a gift has bound me to lies
If I’m stuck at the start line of change forever
If there, I shall implode with what’s left of my character to slay
Never to run the race
Never to advance toward my crucial goals.
If my fears will continue to be realised
If my tears shall continue to cause no relief
And my weaknesses continue to inflate my strife
And master my pain
If hope, faith and love can no longer serve my plight
In a world that has lost the patience or the grace to pardon me any longer
Then Lord, I will not make it through…
Nay, I cannot
Lord, soon bring me home to you.
© juliana ohayo
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so so so soulful.
if you found this worth posting, if it touched the depths you, then i absolutely LOVE your sense of poetry
I wrote this when everyone was telling me how talented a writer I was but I was dying inside and drawing from pain. Beauty from ashes? Thanks