Woeful Prayer
Oh, hear this woeful girl's prayer,
such a deep sorrow sigh;
will this heart ever stop hurting,
to Heaven these tears fly.
For here, I sit forlorn and lost,
within this box of grief;
and fear another dawn and day,
which brings impending fate.
Oh, I am stained with the blood,
of love long, long departed;
I am never free from their voices,
which call from their tombs.
Among scattered stones are names,
my broken heart recalls;
forever in my soul etched deep,
and on a slender thread I am kept,
( . . . tethered to this eternal grief)
But, within my soul freedom stirs,
with strength to break away!
Oh, can I throw off this awful grief?
Lord, can you hear this girl's prayer . . .
__________________
July 25, 2018
Poetry/Verse/Woeful Prayer
Copyright Protected, ID 28-1215-653-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Strand Select 9 Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
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