my voice muttered through
the realms of cluttered air
I could say
anything in
the privacy of my mind
without the sound
of throat and
distracted tones
I cried real things suppressed
and confessed my
turmoil in silence
and quiet
burdens
there is not a peace i find
than here in
the chamber
of grace where you
hear me
and know the machinery
of my being
and every time I come and kneel
You make sense of
all that that I cannot say...
No comments:
Post a Comment