Under a liquid-grey evening sky
When night is never more so nigh,
From these closed eyes falls a watery streak
No one wants to know of another’s grief...
Never more alone than when in a crowd.
Yet, faith leaves me so little room for doubt
That this clustered solitude could ever be complete
When prostrating myself at His sublime Feat.
Since human comfort always seems to fail
Only His noble words give me space to heal,
This pain those people unknowingly inflict
Belief stitches every wound and every snick.
And now tears bring on an overwhelming peace
Ever more near to my heart, is this ephemeral ease.
