I have no regard for the late hour; I wake him up.
Our hearts pull us down the stairs.
We read of her experience
And our once exuberant hearts
Now sit broken in the
Bottom of our souls.
We ponder words to send
Across the globe.
How can we comfort
Such an afflicted heart?
We cannot.
Only He can.
We type Scripture.
It is our only solace.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 10:02 PM UTC
I have no regard for the late hour; I wake him up.
Our hearts pull us down the stairs.
We read of her experience
And our once exuberant hearts
Now sit broken in the
Bottom of our souls.
We ponder words to send
Across the globe.
How can we comfort
Such an afflicted heart?
We cannot.
Only He can.
We type Scripture.
It is our only solace.
