darkening temper fragile of faith
contemplating the dour side of life
when in my solutide ponder
the cruelty befallen me
pleasure attribed by troubling me
with a question for the Gods why
there is great compassion and love, I know
my mind ponders the why of it
so much beauty exists but with it the ugliness
to what end, does the bad occur
my soul shatters the silence
my questions rise heavenward
crashing the gate I find myself in the throne room
Michael is irrate I am to be humble
sacred understanding, all living is tested
it is an art to bring forth the best in us
my thoughts find the spoiled
my heart hurts they are made bright
inside I query why
was I scraps, stitched togther out of leftover material
or did my dispostion shape who I would become
gifted in so many areas but not quite enough to sustain myself
my soul beholden to the King
it humbles me greatly to be full of bedlam, unable to care for myself
to be sure I am pardoned on a great many front
because of my ailment
it appears I will remain a child with little answers forever
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This is a something you will have to ponder on and hope to get the answer to.
thank you lovely Fia I got an answer it just wasn’t the one I wanted I appreciate you ❤️
Powerfully penned, Brenda. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you graciously dearest Damian I appreciate you 🙂
Fantastic, my friend.