it feels as if I’m without hope


while questions ricochet

like echoes bouncing

     in a cave

roaring continuous

     as the waves

crashing around in my brain

     leaving me week, drained

perilously I teeter

     on a cliff

          therefore I turn to the Holy Writ

but for the promises within

     I’m drowning in chagrin

yearning for relief

     pile-driven into grief

and yet my prayers

     they merely whimper

demons laugh

     and point their fingers

yelling “you, you are to blame!”

     overwhelmed I hide my shame

it has to be my fault (it just has to)

     for the enemy’s assault

but it’s been proclaimed

     marry your faith to belief

          whence the pathway to relief

but when reprieve isn’t granted

            misery is fast implanted

it’s hard to stay enchanted

nonetheless I cling to Hope

     one that survives, thrives

          in Gethsemane’s garden

          while clinging to His garment

          sheltered from doubt’s bombardment


By Rocky James Curtiss 04/26/2018

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