To My God From Me (A Complaint Most Humble)

Wouldst fear or fathom unimpedes’t mine thus putting forth
a question I doth know’est not be worthless or of worth,
Verily yea I wouldst then pose it unto my reigning God
and if the glory Hallelujah recieves’t with a nod.
Upon the hallowed floor of heaven placeth shall my brow
supine shall and humble be my back’st then as now.
With the sound of ashes left in embers dying in most vain
shall these words in halls of heaven echo sans redounding gain.
“Why dost thou let all my walls,
fall and crumble every day,
when knowest thou in all thy wisdom,
how hard I do strive to raise.
Why not do the children of heaven
grieve each moment as my people,
and how may comest their rejoice
every time there are no wounds.
How is it in just report when
all I needst is a hand
that when my words may come to thee
shall only thou hear then a rebel.
Lord my savior, Lord my shephard,
why should I pray to thee succor,
when bleeding hands with tourniquets
have painted dark the purest wounds.
Why must those who holdest faith
hurt the most to keepest thus,
but those who mourn no further loss,
they mightest grieve upon its gain.
Lord I hath no more to ask
of thee nor of thy wisdom but,
If irked thou art that much by doubt,
then how can silence be thy word.”

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14 thoughts on “To My God From Me (A Complaint Most Humble)

      1. The end of Project R. I run the project during the latter part of October, and having promised to give each contributor a full day on my blog, I didn’t want to break my word. Now, however, I am free to rhyme once again.

  1. Oh, this thing called “Faith”…
    Sometimes, I feel like I can only sigh when everything feels too much.
    Yet, we all keep on moving forward and here it is again: the assurance that He is up there holding us through and through.

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