Three long years
Morning is still a long time coming.
Clouds hang over a dull orb in the sky.
Stumble, says I
Place one foot in front of the other
Reach the finished line spoken of by the preacher.
Sleep upon the bed of disquieted thoughts
Tired are the eyes in my head
They are sick of seeing this opaque emptiness that surrounds.
Rest eludes and is replaced by rampage
the soul within me longs to lie in those green pastures
It seeks out the still waters that beckon me come.
Jade is my name
I have brought my tithe to your storehouuse
But my vessels remain empty still
Promise me that the preacher did not lie
You said ask and I would receive and knock so that I gain entry
I have asked and I am still waiting
Patience hurts my battered brains
It dries up my wells and strains everything within me
My heart feels it shall never heal
Ask me how I am today
I will say I am fine and that it is well with my soul
But inside my spirit is tarnished and bruised.
Hope is what I cling to
It glimmers just a tiny bit like a signal to my rescuers
I pray that they find me before it is too late.
Silence they call golden
But when I do not hear from you my heart sinks
I await your words of wisdom
Bless your little girl
She cries by night and fights by day to just breathe
Push air into her lungs and sustain her
Jade is still here
She watches and waits with a pessimistic eye
For God to do what He said he would do.