The root of bitterness takes well

In a searching heart

When love fails to play

Its holy part

A shrub of thorns, a tree of vines

Poisonous to behold

Reaches up and takes the sky

To break that fragile mold

The body starts to fester away

As the heart ceases to beat

Those ardent prayers and tremoring hopes

Melt away in the swelter

Of desperation

A bitter calm ensues

A well of solid ice

No warming ray seduce

No kindly word entice.

A word to the wise for the day ahead

When God does not seem true

Look thee behind and then again ahead

And rather trust than do.

Published by alexiima

Life's a party in a sunflower field. Even when we wilt, we are beautiful to behold.

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