My mind leads me to some old, dark places.
Places that feel chilly, sunless and grey.
Followed by a torment that still chases
away my heart to places in decay.
When we first met at night inside a dream,
you led me through the halls of deep despair.
The hope I held was not as it would seem;
misery turns dreams into a nightmare.
Since then, you have become my long best friend.
You know me deep inside and never leave.
I gave up hope that this will ever end:
The torture that destroys what I believe.
My God, if you won’t take away this cup,
then use Your mighty hand to hold me up.
© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.