A Weathered Hope
A weathered hope was all i took,
to knock on heaven's door,
Twice banished from the gate before,
to give i had no more.
From begging the angels to open the door,
my heart had become sore.
I knocked and knocked and on it went,
till my strength began to fade,
and farewell the legs began to bade.
And then a shinning light around me spread;
of angels or of God,
A voice that whispered,
"You have so much, what have you to give to your Lord?"
This curt and true answer,
Made me so ashamed,
That i alone was at fault,
Why was God to be blamed.
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