Alone in the abyss of a dark whirling space, I struggled and fought to escape from this place.  

Attempts thwarted down by the “I Am” in disgust, He lashed out with His sword as I kneeled in the dust.

“Be still” he demanded, “Be patient” he cried, you must go through this journey, “wear your wounds with some pride”.

I lay there for days long after the visit had ended, could I ever make sense of the advice that He tended?

I now walk the Earth, a friend to no man.  My scars have increased, I endure all I can.

My imperfect soul can smell evil waiting; the world can’t see the stench do their prognosticating.

And what of my flesh, my soul and my heart?  A purpose defined of which I play a part.

And what of the children who’s laughter has gone?  Do their scars alone justify their strength to go on?

And what of their slayers, their biological threats?  Did the innocent pick the wrong hand and lose in a bet?

Alone in they abyss of this dark whirling space, I struggle and fight to help the wounded I face.

Attempts thwarted down by this world in disgust, they lash out with venom and stomp my efforts to dust.

“Be still” they demand. “Be patient” they cry.  This life is MY journey and you shall abide.

I lay here for hours pondering aspirations now ended, can I ever make sense of the worth that they tended?

I now walk the Earth, a friend to no man.
My scars have increased; I endure all that I can.