Affliction, something that doesn't ever seem to end,
After an exhale it begins again,
But I welcome you into my room,
Sitting at my shoulder,
Every time it feels little less like doom,
Because at some point the wilderness seasons will be over.
You're the teacher I never wanted but have,
The warring half
Of joy,
So make your deploy
As you settle in my heart,
Because I stand in the presence of Light;
There's no such thing as succumbing to the dark,
Because for walking on another broken road, it’s another mile closer to seeing the light of the Father’s heart.
YOU ARE READING
Last Year's Flowers
PoetryIn the third installment, Last Year's Flowers, MissReads19's poetry takes on a new shape through storytelling. Crafted from fragments of poems written through time, Last Year's Flowers takes the reader on a fictionalized journey of love from beginni...
