Finding God
The world, devoid of hope, ripe with aches of every kind.
All the afflictions for a growing child; body, soul, and mind.
Rich in anger, derived from pain.
Not knowing of a soul-cleansing rain.
Where, O God, in my greatest time of need,
Were you that you could not spare me?
How, O God, and for what misdeed,
Was I to be punished so harshly?
Whilst in my room, wherein light had died,
Lay I, to bleed; to writhe, teary-eyed.
In this dungeon of mine, in its deepest recesses,
I was found and was taken into divine caresses.
I found that for which I had not sought
And was given a hope I had long since forgot.
In all the trials and tortures of life, this one thing is true:
My God, despite my abandonment, I was found by You.
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