I’m so sorry, readers.
I really have no excuse for my week-long absence, except that sickness has been rampant in my house this past week. But I’m back now, and with two poems for you for Writer’s Wednesday.
I’m really proud of these two poems, and I’d love to hear your take on it. Thank you for sticking with me. ❤
Shame and Glory
I stand before the crowd today
The way I always do.
My clothes stripped off, my life lain bare
Because the day is through.
I’ve come to this place again
You see me every night:
I come before You now this time
Please help me make this right.
The things I feel, the stuff I’ve done
Would make any sinner blush.
But now the shame with which I live
My soul it seems to crush.
The knife, it turns within me
Bringing blood out fresh.
I’m hurt and begging mercy
Forgive my sinful flesh.
You say it’s for Your glory
That we are saved by You
After we hit bottom
We ask You and You do.
So I ask again, please save me
From my evil past.
Forgive my sin and help me
So I’ll see You at last.
This one has no name, but I’ve always referred to it as The Dead of My Own Making.
Bring me the dead of your own making
The frost upon your brow
Foretells that youth is sadly taking
The final slumber now.
Gone far are the days of joyous song
Which men so greatly love
Come now the hours of unquiet slumber
And restless labor on.
Now hush! For silence reigns supreme
O’er this once happy home.
The candles leap o’er empty rooms
That bustling are no more.
Who owned this house? Ask ye may
And wherefore did they go?
The answer is quite simple, friends
And it is one you know.
The house is you, I must announce
And you are sealed up tight.
You’ve kept it up, from inside out
And now bring in the Light.