I watched with my heart heavy
as my son wallowed in self pity.
My ever capable hands itched for action
but all he did was fall into depression.
It was never meant to be so.
The trials were supposed to help him grow.
But he let himself get the wrong idea
and assumed I no longer held him dear.
I will remain close.
For there is still hope.
For somewhere in his heart,
my spirit cries “go to the light”
Please listen my son.
Don’t let the devil think he has won.
Crying and complaining will only bring pain
Why can’t you remain steadfast in your faith?
In the end its up to you my son.
Everything hinges on your decision.
Stretch out a hand so I can hold it
or withdraw and watch yourself sink.
But now it just hurts me to see
that you still refuse to reach out to me.
For instead of drawing virtue from God,
you hinder me by letting your doubt create a wall