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Father, cries your son.


A Poem by Paul Pruett

 

Father, I cry unto you.

Lost in the endless desert of my sadness.

Whisper that voice of comfort in my tears.

Carry me ‘cross the endless waste I see.
 
All I feel is desolation.
 
Loneliness seems to whirl ‘round me taunting.
 
Shaitan laughs somewhere of in the haunting wind.
 
 
 
Father, cries your son.
 
I know that you are here.
 
But my weakness needs a touch.
 
This body seems too weak to go on.
 
Your blessing would carry me forward.
 
The safety of your house is a distant dream.
 
Lift my feet from the sand.
 
Shelter me under your wings from the burning sun.
 
Pour me a cup of living water to quench my aching mouth.
 
 
 
Father, cries your son.
 
Feed me that bread to satiate my brutal hunger.
 
Love me, Father, like no one can.
 
Rock me to sleep under the stars your hands made.
 
Tell me that all my evil is gone.
 
How my room awaits filled with your love.
 
My heart leaps to thank you, Father.
 
So I would cry no more.

© 2009 Paul Pruett
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Featured Review

This is more than a prayer and a cry for help, this is a tragedy. I find it so desperately sad: ' All I feel is desolation. Loneliness seems to whirl 'round me taunting.' ~~ ~~ 'Rock me to sleep under the stars your hands made. Tell me that all my evil is gone.'

The man who wrote this can't be evil, not when he can create such a wonderful poem

In spite of the subject and its emotion, the phrasing is haunting and beautiful.

Posted 4 Months Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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