Tonight, my God, my Holy God, will listen to my plea!
My skin is white, my breath is short,
and on this night my end will come with bitter haste.
For far too long, have I condemed the man who feared the Lord, but
Tonight, my God, my Holy God, will listen to my plea!
The worst has come, it came to steal my lovely gold, the treasure of my soul.
The only thing that I have grasped, has left my hands, and as I crawl, I fall behind.
Tonight, my God, my Holy God, will listen to my plea!
YOU ARE READING
Tonight, my God, my Holy God
PoetryThis poem is very personal. There are many messages I am sending through this writing, more than you can imagine. I hope my words bring a sort of comfort for those who understand and are suffering similar ordeals.
