In the dark hours of the night,
When your heart is breaking,
When you’re losing the battle against the pain,
When your mind is giving up on hope,
And you pray to the God above that He take you away….
In those darkest moments of your soul,
No one is there.
No one is there to hear your cries or heed your calls.
If I’ve learned one thing in the trials of this existence,
It is this:
In those moments when it hurts too much to live, to breath
And tears fall, scalding, down your cheeks,
No one is there.
During those nights when sleep is an elusive escape,
Condemning you to another night of punishing thoughts
And that empty ache in your heart is torn open,
Stealing your will to live, like a black hole,
Snatching away all the lies you’ve comforted yourself with.
Leaving you bare, exposed.
Ripping apart the wound that has never healed,
The wound of all things lost and never had.
The ******, gushing red marks of a wanderer butchered and left for dead.
In those seconds, minutes, hours of agony in which your heart shatters and breaks and comes undone again and again and again
In the pouring, raging storm of your pain unleashed
No one hears the desperate pleadings in your mind.
No one hears the howling screams of your soul.
No one hears a thing.
Because when you call in your darkest moments, no one answers.