Missive To Heaven
Tonight I put her to bed with promises of faith
That God does not keep with me again
The wall closes in at the crumpled gate
My soul has clutched its prayer so in vain
Yet despite the silence of a sterile sky
I will not my convictions now deny
It is more than accident that brought us here
It is more than mortal death I fear
That ever I go away from this place, void
Still of knowing the purpose I came
The reason that I suppliant is most denied
My moth like desire for the brutal flame.
O let her sleep, but not my trust, O Lord
Remember me by the promise of your word
My sovereign King, my God, defender be
I stand before you naked, shaken like a tree.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009
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