Speak To Me

My sculptor diligently crafted me For I am a recipient of his Love, shining bright for all to see And has given me a choice to kiss That I shall take to seek my course Though, the truth was planted in me But my youth was brutally forced To embrace things I should not be Doing so, I conceded out of fear To the burning stone of promises Ruined myself for I didn’t hear The final warning of the voices Its fake brightness crippled endeavour Moaning in solitude for I lost the trust ‘Cos I did not hold firm to the fervour In vain, my life I unwillingly entrust Now, I’m seeking his loving-kindness Calling only in his name again and again Let not impatience once more repress.... Begging him to recreate me, to ease the pain