Helpless
I struggle to find my purpose in life;
something that once seemed clear;
piercing the darkness of eternal night;
wondering if God will draw near.
I feel such an emptiness, deep inside;
for I am filled with regret;
embalmed with a truth; I cannot hide;
drowning in my own sweat.
In my old age; I think like a child;
seeking someone to care for me;
I feel discarded; and much reviled;
without clarity; I no longer see.
I feel a deep guilt; my innocence gone;
no longer my Master’s reflection;
in spite of it all; I’m forced to live on;
fearing the Master’s rejection.
Wondering what my future must be;
living one step at a time;
I believe in God; but not in me;
always seeking a sign.
I am the beggar; begging in the street;
without a future in sight;
in fear of the day; my Master; I’ll meet;
dreading death’s endless night.
I have but the faith of a mustard seed;
spreading within my being;
in death; God will supply my need;
all are helpless; before the king.
Monty 11.12.25. # 3,050