Wrapped
Wrapped in mist,
A swirling fog of despair.
Railed hopelessness
Blankets me ,so familiar.
Tunneled days, dimmering
Down to night.
Why seek tomorrow, why not give up the fight?
This abyss , deepening each day,drawing me, claiming me,paving my way.
Oh for a sip of hope to quench my despairing soul ,a grip of truth, I can hold as so.
An invading light, dispelling my plight. For I am helpless to transform the night.
Does my creator know me as I am?
Has He made a way with a plan?
Or is that a fable spun by man?
How can I know?
How can I really know?
(Ask)
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